


A Repairing of Self

by Tassana_Burrfoot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-17 00:36:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14176758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassana_Burrfoot/pseuds/Tassana_Burrfoot
Summary: Hermione Granger needs help to restore her parents memories. Lucius Malfoy has the necessary means and is ordered by Kingsley Shacklebolt to go to Australia with her to help her with costs and magic.Along the way they fall in love...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Elm_and_Vine_Heartstrings](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Elm_and_Vine_Heartstrings) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Hermione Granger needs help to restore her parents memories. Lucius Malfoy has the necessary means and is ordered by Kingsley Shacklebolt to go to Australia with her to help her with costs and magic.
> 
> Along the way they fall in love...

Hermione barged into the Minister’s office, her face practically buried in a book. “I did not know it would take this much work just to restore my parents’ memories,” she said as she walked up to his desk and placed the book onto it. 

She looked up to see the Minister staring at her, his eyes widened slightly with surprise. She heard shuffling at her side and glanced over to see none other than Lucius Malfoy standing beside her and looking at her with a single raised eyebrow. Hermione felt her cheeks heat up.

Looking back at the Minister, she pinched her brows. “I’m so sorry, Kingsley. I did not realize you were in a meeting,” she said as she took a step back.

He recovered from his initial shock and gave her a soft smile. “It’s quite alright, Miss Granger. I know you’ve been struggling with getting your parents’ memories back. I’m glad you’ve found a solution.”

She sighed as she pointed to a passage in the book. “I didn’t, though,” she argued. “The spell I had used is different from the normal Oblivation spell because of the way I had modified their memories. I would need someone who knows Charms as well as I do and we would have to work together. Not only that, but the time leading up to their restoration requires that they drink the Memory Restoration Potion three times. Neither of my parents are trusting enough to drink anything handed to them by a stranger just once, let alone, three times.”

“That’s pretty smart for a pair of Muggles,” Lucius commented, speaking for the first time.

Hermione glared at him. “Imagine that,” she quipped. “Not that you would understand, but both of my parents graduated at the top of their classes at Oxford University and both had a great dentistry practice here in London before the war began.”

“I am very well aware of your parents’ accomplishments, Miss Granger,” the aristocrat informed her. “Although where they had disappeared to remained a mystery to me until just now.”

Kingsley clapped his hands together, drawing Hermione’s attention back to him. “So, what is it you need from me, my dear?” the Minister asked, hoping to curve the conversation back to the matter at hand.

The Muggle-born sighed. “Honestly? Just help. As I’ve said, I will need someone fluent in Charms to help me perform the necessary spell. Whoever you can get me that can help me there, also needs to be knowledgeable in potions. The Memory Restoration Potion is extremely complicated and will require two people to make. I can do it, just… not alone,” she explained. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. “Also… The trip to Australia and accommodations won’t come cheap. I was hoping to ask for an advance on my paycheck to help with the expenses.”

“The ingredients for the potion will be expensive as well,” Lucius mused as he picked up the book and scanned over the potion’s recipe. He remained stoic as he read through the potion.

The young witch frowned. “Yes...” she agreed, “Harry and Ginny did offer to help me financially, but I fear neither are equipped to actually help me otherwise. Plus,” she looked at Kingsley again, “they did just get married. They’ve returned from their honeymoon not even two days ago. I hate the idea of borrowing money from them.”

Kingsley nodded gravely as he thought over her current situation. “Miss Granger, I would love to help you in whatever way I can. I will give you whatever time you need off so you may travel to Australia and retrieve your parents. I can even give you the funds for your round trip ticket, but I do not believe it will cover either the cost of the ingredients or your accommodations in Australia. How long do you intend to be away?”

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know, Kingsley. I’ll have to find my parents and gain their trust first. I do not even know if they are still living in the house that I had secured for them.”

Kingsley looked at Lucius. “You could help her,” he suggested, causing the aristocrat to raise an eyebrow and Hermione to open her mouth in surprise. “It could be a part of your reintroduction into Wizarding Society and show that you truly have changed.”

“Minister Shacklebolt, I do not believe this would be a wise idea,” the aristocrat protested calmly.

Hermione quickly shook her head and raised her hands. “Oh, no, I quite agree. Mr. Malfoy and I...”

“It would be perfect,” the Minister said, smiling. He glanced at the Muggle-born. “Who better to see that Mr. Malfoy has been rehabilitated? If you do this, Hermione, you can even claim your trip to Australia is work-related, which will provide you with better accommodations on your trip there and back again. You may even be able to secure a few… perks from the Ministry in Australia. Besides, you said you needed someone who was well-versed in both Charms and Potions.” He waved a hand at the blond. “Lucius here is more than qualified to meet your needs and expectations.”

Lucius stood straight. “Kingsley, this is not going to end well. I implore you to reconsider.”

The bushy-haired brunette found herself agreeing with the Pureblood again. “Mr. Malfoy and I have a history,” she told the Minister. “It isn’t a good one, either. We can’t...”

“It would be a great way for him to repay you for the grievances you experienced within his home,” the former Order member pointed out. He looked back up at Lucius. “And you could consider your debt to our society officially paid off. Isn’t that the reason you had come here in the first place, Lucius?”

“ _Charity_ ,” the aristocrat insisted. “I had meant _charity_.”

“This will be a charity,” Kingsley stated. “Help Miss Granger retrieve her parents and restore their memories. Be gentlemanly and on your best behaviour and you can consider this a charitable contribution.”

“And if I refuse?” the blond asked, folding his arms.

The dark-skinned wizard shook his head. “You wanted to know what you needed to do to regain some status within our society. _You_ were the one who came to me with a proposal to offer more charity. This is my request. Do this, Lucius, and people will see you as a wizard who has reformed. You may still have the Mark on your arm, but you are not the same person you once were,” he told him. “Refuse, and you’ll be right back in the position you are now. You need Miss Granger as much as she needs you. Besides, don’t you have a summer home in Australia?”

Lucius glared at the Minister for a moment longer before he steeled himself. Grabbing his cane angrily, he glanced at Hermione. “We leave in an hour,” he told her as he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

~*~

Hermione hurriedly followed Lucius down the hall, the sound of her heels echoing off the walls. For an older person, the man was much quicker than she had imagined. “Mr. Malfoy!” she called out, trying to rush to catch up with him.

Lucius did not acknowledge her or slow down. The Muggle-born wished she hadn’t worn such a tight business suit for it had prevented her from stretching her legs out more as she hurried after him. He paused at the lift and she made a dash towards him. “Mr. Malfoy!” she repeated, finally catching up to him as he waited for the lift door to open.

He turned and regarded her coolly as she brushed her hair out of her face. “I don’t want to do this anymore than you do,” she assured him.

He raised a single, perfectly chiseled eyebrow. “Then don’t,” he told her. 

She clicked her tongue. “So, what? I’m supposed to just leave my parents in Australia without their memories? I can’t do that, sir. They are my parents.”

“They’re Muggles,” he pointed out. “Ignorance can be bliss. Besides, don’t you think they are better not knowing who you are?”

“Do you have any idea how long it had taken them to conceive me?” she asked as the lift door opened. She followed him inside, knowing she, too, needed to head down to the main entrance anyway to Floo home and pack. “Not that it matters to you. What if Draco had erased yours and Mrs. Malfoy’s memories to save your lives? Wouldn’t you want him to come back for you?”

He leaned against his cane, watching her with unreadable eyes. “Narcissa and I are no longer married,” he pointed out. “Though I’m sure you already knew this. As for Draco, well, I doubt it would make much difference as we rarely see one another anyway.”

“But if he had erased your memory of him… Wouldn’t that bother you?” she questioned.

He lifted his chin, seemingly in thought. “If he had erased my memory, I would have nothing to be bothered by, now would I? Of course, Draco hasn’t done such, so my emotions do not matter in this situation.” 

The lift doors opened again, revealing a busy entrance hall filled with wizards and witches coming and going. “Don’t delude yourself into thinking I want help from you,” she told him, following him out of the lift. 

He glanced at her. “One hour, Miss Granger. I do believe it is Spring in Australia, so make sure you pack appropriately. I will have a carriage pick you up,” he informed her.

She stared at him, flabbergasted. “You don’t even know where I live!” she insisted.

He gave her a droll look. “Didn’t you renovate your parents’ home here in London? Is that not where you have been living for the past three years after you and Mr. Weasley parted ways?” he drawled.

It took her a moment to remember that her breakup with Ron had been all over the Daily Prophet. Of course Mr. Malfoy would know about it. “You were there, weren’t you?” she asked, watching him for any indication of fallacy. “You were one of the Death Eaters who had destroyed my parents’ home.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do not assume things you know little of, Miss Granger. The Dark Lord did have a few of his followers go to your parents’ home to retrieve them, however, in case you have forgotten, I was under house arrest, so no. I had no part in that destruction.”

“Then you don’t know where I live, so how are you planning to ‘pick me up’?” she asked, folding her arms.

Rolling his eyes, Lucius sighed. “Does it matter right now? You now have 50 minutes to pack, unless you plan to venture to another country without a lick of clothing,” he commented. “While I won’t dissuade the idea, it would be highly inappropriate and I doubt your parents would be willing to trust a girl who is naked.”

Hermione gasped and shrieked, “ _You pig!_ How dare you! I will not be spoken to with such disrespect!”

He paused and glared at her. “Miss Granger, every moment you waste arguing with me is yet another moment in which you are not gathering your belongings so we can leave. I, for one, want to be done with this business as quickly as possible as I take no enjoyment in the idea of helping you and your Muggle parents.” He glanced up at the clock above Gringotts and pointed at it with his cane. “You now have forty-nine minutes. If you are not ready by then, I will either take you as you are or drop the cause entirely, consequences be damned. These people are of no relation to me and, honestly, I couldn’t give a damn if they get their memories back.”

She scowled at him, her arms folded tightly over her chest. Turning on her heel, she walked away from him. Hearing the sharp crack of Apparation, she glanced behind her to see he was gone. She rolled her eyes and Apparated herself. She had no idea how he expected to show up to her house in “forty-nine minutes” when he shouldn’t even know where she lived, but she wouldn’t put it past him to do so. 

She grabbed her suitcase from the top of her closet and threw it on her bed. It truly didn’t take her long to pack. By the time she closed her suitcase, she heard a knock at her door. Securing the lock, she picked the bag up and carried it to the front door. She glanced out of the peephole and was mildly surprised to see Lucius Malfoy standing there, his head turned slightly as he gazed at something she couldn’t see. Unlocking the door, she opened it.

He turned his attention to her. “Ready?” he asked.

Her eyes widened when she saw he had, indeed, brought a horse-drawn carriage to pick her up in. One of the beasts opened up its wings and she gasped. “You brought pegasi?!” she asked, unsure if she should really be surprised. “There are Muggles living on this street!”

He shrugged. “And to them, the creatures look like ordinary horses. What’s your point?” He took a step back to give her room to pass him. “I managed to secure passage on a ship that will bring us to our destination, but we must depart now.”

She frowned as she stepped out of the house and closed the door. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you planned this,” she quipped as she locked the door and waved her wand over it, casting protection spells upon it.

“A true gentleman is always prepared,” he responded as he lifted her suitcase. He frowned. “Is this all you are bringing? Did you pack evening wear as well?”

She scoffed at him. “This isn’t a pleasure cruise, Mr. Malfoy. I can’t believe you wish to go by ship. We have to get to Australia, gain my parents’ trust, and bring them home. We won’t have time for any pleasantries.”

“You realize the Memory Restoration Potion will take at least two weeks to make?” he drawled as he secured her suitcase to the back of the carriage. He opened the carriage door for her, offering her his hand to help her into the carriage.

“Yes, and in those two weeks that we wait, we will have to gain my parents’ trust,” she told him. “As I said, we won’t have time...”

“Are your parents so dull that they do not dine out or even attend galas?” he asked, leaning against the carriage door.

“No,” she replied. Sitting down, she frowned at him. “Aren’t you getting in?”

He raised an eyebrow. “If I did, there would be no one to drive the carriage,” he told her as he closed the door.

Her eyes widened as she felt the carriage tilt and shift. She looked forward, knowing he had climbed into the driver’s seat. She heard the crack of the whip and the carriage surged forward. As they moved forward, she realized she had forgotten her book in her suitcase.

~*~

They arrived to their destination quicker than Hermione had expected. Of course, once they had gotten far enough from the Muggles, the pegasi had flown. She had no idea where they were, which both frightened and concerned her. She had left a note for Harry, but she knew that wouldn’t be enough. He would want to speak to her.

The door opened, and Lucius looked up at her, offering a gloved hand so he might help her out of the carriage. “You did manage to secure your passport, I assume?” he asked as she climbed down.

“Of course,” she told him. “May I ask why we are taking a ship and not an aeroplane? Wouldn’t that have been faster?”

He grunted as he lifted her suitcase from the back of the carriage along with his own. “I will not get on one of those Muggle deathtraps. Remember, Miss Granger, we are wizards. Our magic would interfere with the technology and we could crash.”

She rolled her eyed and scoffed. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Unless one of us becomes upset or enraged, I highly doubt we would crash a plane. You’ve ridden brooms before, I take it? Those are far more dangerous than any aeroplane.”

“And you don’t believe you would become enraged halfway through the voyage with me? How adorable,” he drawled. “We aren’t even on the boat yet and I am already feeling quite irritated. You must be the epitome of poise and discipline.”

She frowned at him. “Oh, I feel quite irritated myself,” she assured him as she followed him towards the docks. “But it’s not enough to crash a plane.”

He stopped and turned to look at her. She nearly collided with him, but managed to pause just in time. He looked down at her. “Trust me, darling,” he said, the endearment ringing sarcastically in her ears, “it will be.”

She pinched her lips together as they reached the ticket booth, or one of them. She watched as he handed the cashier a few Galleons and her eyes widened slightly. A magical ship? She wondered to herself.

“Your papers, miss?” the cashier asked, snapping Hermione’s mind to the present. 

She reached into her purse and pulled out the necessary documents, handing them over to the cashier. He glanced over them before returning them to her with a smile. “All looks in order,” he assured them both. “I hope you have a pleasant trip.”

A bell dinged from the counter and Lucius took Hermione’s elbow gently in his hand and led her out onto the docks. She snatched her elbow away from him and glared at the wizard. “Do not think you can take such liberties with my person, sir,” she snapped. 

He waved her indignation away and continued towards the ship. “Keep up,” he said, deliberately picking up his pace.

She had to practically run to keep up with the blond. Oh, how she wanted to slap him! She knew he was walking fast on purpose just to annoy her more. They made their way onto the ship, showing their papers when necessary. They continued further onto the ship, and Hermione grew curious when she realized they weren’t going below deck.

They entered a room and she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Of course Malfoy would chose the best room on the ship. “Is this the captain’s quarters?” she asked as Lucius placed their luggage on top of a bed.

He snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Granger,” he said as he opened up his own suitcase and began unpacking it with his wand. The robes floated towards an open closet and hung themselves as his many shoes followed and situated themselves under the clothes.

She frowned. “And just where am I supposed to put my things?” she questioned, looking about.

Lucius flicked his wand at a cabinet and it opened to reveal an armoire, with ample space to put her things. “If you need more room, which I doubt,” he looked pointedly at her relatively small case, “there is another closet within the lavatory if you wish.”

“I will not put my clothes in the lavatory!” she hissed as she began unpacking her own suitcase in much the same manner that he was, sending her clothes to the wardrobe. 

He didn’t respond as he finished emptying his suitcase. Closing the case up, he tucked it neatly on a rack within the closet. “We still have a few hours left until supper, so, if you don’t mind, I would like to shower and begin preparing for it. Would you like to shower first?”

“All I did was sit in the carriage,” she pointed out.

“Have it your way, then,” he said after a moment. The look he had given her was a mixture of disgust and annoyance. 

“Wait,” she said. He had offered for her to shower first, and well, since she hadn’t done so since earlier that morning, a shower did sound lovely.

He paused and watched her grab some effects of hers from the armoire. As she walked to a door and opened it, she stopped and stared at it. It was another bedroom, this one smaller than the one they were currently in with nothing more than a bed inside it.

“I was wondering where you were going to sleep,” she mused as she turned to look at him.

He opened another door and she sighed, seeing that it was the bathroom. As she walked past him, he grabbed her arm again, causing her to glare up at him. He lifted an eyebrow. “That room you saw was where the First Mate will be sleeping. So, yes, there is only one bed for the two of us,” he informed her. “Try not to take too long in the shower.”

She gasped as he released her and glared at him. “You’re mad if you think I’ll share a bed with you!” she growled. She slipped into the lavatory and slammed the door shut.

Her nerves were shaking and she could feel something cold slither up her spine. She pressed her back against the door and took in her surroundings. It was a relatively large bathroom for one aboard a ship. She wondered, briefly, if they would have to share it with this First Mate. She shook her head, of course they would! She was annoyed that they had taken over the First Mate’s quarters. Why could they have not gotten a normal room below deck like everyone else?

“Because he’s Lucius Malfoy, Hermione,” she grumbled to herself. “God forbid he have anything less than the _very best_.” She rolled her eyes as she reached over and turned on the water – Yes, the bathroom was that small. She continued to mumble mockingly about the wizard. “No doubt he paid the entire crew off to make sure he received every accommodation available because Merlin knows any ship with him on it has to be a pleasure cruise for him. And he honestly thinks _I’m_ going to share a bed with him, as if I would even want to!”

She had set her clothing atop the closed toilet and undressed. As she stepped into the cramped shower, she started by washing her hair. “I wonder what sort of fine cuisine he will have them meticulously prepare for us. Plenty of caviar, no doubt, and some escargot. Maybe the juiciest cuts of tender lamb, too...” 

Throughout her entire shower she mocked small things about their voyage, much of which hadn’t even happened yet, though she assumed they would. It would be just like Lucius, after all. The best of the best, naturally. Every luxury money could buy. She supposed she shouldn’t complain, but the whole situation just irritated her to no end. She had no desire to spend two weeks or more with the bastard. And she was NOT sharing a bed with him! 

She dried off and dressed, spelling her hair dry and not caring that it was as wild as ever. As she opened the door, she squeaked when she really did collide with the irritating wizard. Had he been standing there the entire time?! “Um,” she hesitated. She blushed as she pushed past him. “The loo is free now, if you like. I… think there is still some hot water left.”

He said nothing, just stared at her as she walked into the room. Had he heard everything she had said? That wasn’t possible. She hadn’t even spoken loudly enough for him to hear!

He slipped into the lavatory and closed the door behind him. She set her jaw. Well, if she had ended up taking all the hot water, she supposed it would serve him right anyway. All she heard, though, was the sound of running water, so she assumed it was all fine. She went to the armoire and pulled out her hair brush. There was little she could do to fix her hair, as she had forgotten her potions for it. So, she just pulled it back into a messy bun and tied a bow into it. It wasn’t her best hair style, but it would have to do for now. Perhaps, when they got to Australia, she could stop at an apothecary and pick herself up a bottle or two of the Sleekeazy. 

Lucius exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and another hanging around his neck. “You’re not attending supper in that,” he scoffed in disgust.

Seeing him so dressed down had shocked the girl and she stared at him for a moment. All those layers of robes hid perfectly sculpted, lightly golden muscles, peppered with fine blond hairs that led a trail into his towel. Hermione felt her cheeks redden as her thoughts unwantingly wondered what lay beneath the towel. She blinked and shook her head as his words caught up to her. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” she asked.

He stepped into the closet and closed the door behind him. “You look like a Muggle peasant,” his muffled voice said from behind the door. 

“I do not!” she shrieked.

He exited the closet, fully dressed, and glared at her. “Would you stop that? You sound like a banshee!” he growled. “And, yes, you do.” He waved a hand at her clothing. “It’s like you bought those at a Muggle second hand store.”

He walked up to the wardrobe and rifled through it, looking for something he found more “appropriate.” “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded as he began tossing clothing onto the floor.

“These clothes are inappropriate, all of them,” he commented as he tossed a pink jumper over his shoulder.

Hermione screeched as she rushed up to him and forced herself between him and the wardrobe. She pushed at his chest, trying to get him to move. “Do not touch my clothes!” she protested as he grabbed a red lace negligee. 

He took a step back and stared at the satin material before Hermione yanked it out his hands. He raised an eyebrow. “Do you intend to meet a gentleman in Australia?” he asked as she balled the nightgown up and stuffed it back into the armoire.

“That is none of your business!” she shouted as she bent down to start picking up her clothes.

Lucius pointed his wand at the pile and, with a single wave, the entire pile vanished. Hermione pulled out her own wand and pointed it at him. “How dare you!” she growled. “You will return my clothing, sir, or I will have you arrested for theft!”

He snorted. “I’ll buy you new clothes,” he assured her. “I will not be seen traversing another country with someone who looks like a pauper. You’ll wear decent clothing that is more appropriate and befitting your station.”

“My clothes are fine just the way they are, thank you very much!” she argued. “And I am not a pauper!”

“You’re right,” he agreed as he pointed his wand at the clothes she was wearing. “You are not a pauper. You are a war heroine and a representative of the British Ministry of Magic. Draco even told me once that he had witnessed how well you clean up. My son has never been known to lie to me, Miss Granger. When you aren’t snarling or screeching like a banshee, you do have a nice face.”

“Am I to thank you for the compliment that is laced with insult?” she asked him, still pointing her wand at him.

He smirked at her. “I won’t even require you to thank me when I purchase you new clothing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Given that you destroyed my clothes to begin with, I won’t,” she assured him.

He tilted his head as he lowered his wand. “I could transfigure what you are wearing now into something a bit more suitable,” he offered.

Her eyes narrowed. “No, thank you,” she said, lowering her own wand. “And if you try to, I will turn your robes pink,” she added in warning. “Neon pink, with fluffy baby pink piping.”

He watched as she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. She truly was infuriating, but he couldn’t help but widen his smirk as he followed her out, quick to steer her direction to where the dining area was.

~*~

Hermione was astounded by the grandeur around her as Lucius lead her into the dining hall. She absently placed a hand on his arm as her eyes widened. “This is a cruise, isn’t it?” she asked him quietly.

He gave her a single nod. “You didn’t expect anything less, did you?” he countered with a raise of his brow. He tucked her hand into his elbow and patted it lightly. 

She gazed up at him, noticing, for the first time, how elegantly he was dressed. She blanched. “This is a formal supper we’re going to, isn’t it?” she questioned, immediately feeling vastly under-dressed. 

His white gloved free hand held his cane, though Hermione was unsure if it was really meant to help him walk, or if it was simply an accessory. Often times, the cane seemed like an accessory, but she had seen him limp a time or two, so it made her question his need for it. Of course, she knew his wand was actually inside of it, but it still made her wonder.

“Lucius, old chap!” said a burly man with a thick dark mustache and deep mauve robes. 

The two men shook hands and Hermione was able to spy a lady with the man. The woman was tiny in height, but rather hefty. Her robes matched the man’s as well, indicating that they were, indeed, a couple. “Hector,” Lucius greeted as he shook the man’s hand. “And Mrs. Mabel,” he added, his smile widening as he accepted the woman’s hand graciously and placed a kiss to the back of it. The woman blushed flirtatiously and it was all Hermione could do to hold back a groan and roll of her eyes.

As it was, Hermione’s own lips widened in a dazzling fake smile as the man, Hector, set his beady eyes onto her. “And who is this beautiful, young lass?” the man asked, offering the Muggle-born his hand.

Lucius grinned. “This? Oh, this is...”

“Hermione Granger,” the girl finished, not allowing Lucius to introduce her.

“Well, I’ll be!” Hector said as Hermione placed her hand into his and he kissed the back of it. “What a great honor it is to meet you, young lady! I have heard so many tales of your deeds during, and even after, the war.” He grinned scandalously at Lucius. “How did you manage to capture the eye of this beauty?”

“He’s Lucius Malfoy, dear,” the woman, Mabel, said, speaking for the first time. “Any woman would be more than eager to be on his arm.”

Hermione frowned as she dropped both of her hands. “We’re not here for pleasantries,” she assured them both.

The couple glanced at one another and laughed. “Of course not, my dear,” the man chuckled, winking at Hermione. He leaned down conspiratorially and said softly, “It just wouldn’t be ‘proper’ if the Gryffindor champion was seen consorting with the big, bad, Death Eater, would it?”

Hermione’s face fell and she opened her mouth to argue, but Lucius gently took her hand and tugged her away. “No, it wouldn’t,” he said in response to the man. “Which is why we are merely business partners. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Miss Granger here has not eaten since this morning, and I would hate it if she fainted from lack of food.”

He gave the couple a small smile and a nod of his head, to which they bid their farewells, offering to meet up again later. As soon as the couple was gone and Hermione was following Lucius further into the hall, the Muggle-born glared up at him. “I am not consorting with you,” she stated, both angry and a little offended that they had made that assumption.

“Naturally,” he agreed, “but...” He stopped and sighed. Closing his eyes, he turned to her and began softly, “the only way I was able to procure this ship was by… stretching the truth a bit.” Her eyes widened as he continued, “The captain and crew believe that I have convinced you to join me on this cruise in an effort to seduce you. They even provided us with the best accommodations this ship has in an effort to help me in my seduction.”

“You’re ‘Lucius Malfoy’,” She told him, poking him in the chest. “Since when have you ever needed assistance in that field? And we are not here so you can seduce me! We have to get to Australia and...”

“I know,” he said, grabbing her hand to stop her from poking him. “But this is the quickest way I could get us to Australia.”

She folded her arms and glared at him. “What sort of cruise is this? What have you tricked me into, Mr. Malfoy?”

He glanced at a couple who was passing them. As Hermione followed his gaze, she noticed the way they leaned into one another, as well as the way they were dressed. Lucius stepped closer to Hermione and slipped a hand around her waist, smiling at the passing couple and greeting them with a nod. 

Hermione’s face fell as Lucius pressed his hand into her back, urging her to move with him into the dining hall. She glanced at the various couples, each seating at their own tables, as Lucius led her to a table set for two. She stared at him. “It’s a couples’ cruise,” she surmised.

He pulled out her chair and waved a hand at it, indicating for her to sit. “It is more than that, darling,” he assured her. As she sat down, he leaned down and said softly, seductively, in her ear, “Most people joining us tonight are on their honeymoon.”


	2. Chapter 1

To say that Hermione was livid beyond all reckoning was an understatement of the highest degree. She sat at the dining table poised. Her lips parted in a slight smile as the waiter approached them and took their orders. Of course Lucius had ordered the finest bottle of champagne, which the waiter then poured for the both of them, and insisted that Hermione try the duck. Inwardly the young witch seethed and, as soon as the waiter was gone, she dropped her smile and stared at her glass. 

“Come now, darling, don’t look so put out,” Lucius chided before taking a sip of his own champagne.

She glared at him. “Don’t call me ‘darling,’” she hissed. Glancing around to make sure no one was listening, she leaned forward and continued in a hushed tone, “I can’t believe you have us on a bloody couple’s cruise! If you think you can so easily get into my knickers, you are in for quite the rude awakening.”

He raised an eyebrow as he placed his glass back upon the table and glanced at her. “It may please you to know that I have no intention of ‘getting into your knickers.’ You wanted to travel to Australia and this is simply the quickest route I could find on short notice.”

“No,” she argued. “The quickest route would have been to fly there, but you...”

“Brooms are not meant for traveling such distances,” he informed her as if she didn’t already know. “And before you bring up that Muggle death trap again, might I remind you that we are both magical beings. It would surely have been the end of us.”

“You don’t know that,” she pointed out as she fidgeted, folding and unfolding her arms. “I’ve flown on an aeroplane plenty of times and it’s never crashed.”

“Naturally,” he agreed. “However, somehow I doubt you were as irritated as you are now. I’m sure even you have made things happen without meaning to. I’d rather not take such a chance when my life hangs in the balance.”

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “So, how long is this cruise, and where, exactly, is it taking us?”

“We will dock in Perth. From there, we can take a portkey to Adelaide and another to our final destination,” he explained. He tilted his head slightly. “You still haven’t told me where in Australia we are going.”

“Sydney,” she answered briskly as the waiter returned with the first course. 

They waited while the man laid out their plates and topped off their glasses. “Keep the bottle here,” Lucius ordered.

“Very good, sir,” the waiter said as he placed the bottle in a bucket of ice and left it on the table with them.

Hermione spooned her soup and ate a bite as she thought over Lucius’ words. She was still angry with him and she supposed she would be for the duration of this adventure. She frowned as she chewed on a bit of fish. 

“Is the soup not to your liking, dear?” Lucius asked when he noticed her expression.

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that,” she told him. She looked up and pinched her lips together for a moment. “How long is this voyage? When will we get to Perth?”

He patted his lips with the cloth that had been provided to him. “I believe a week,” he answered. “Though it’s a couple’s cruise, it is also a wizard ship. I’m not sure if you know this, darling, but wizarding ships do travel much faster and are safer than the Muggle counterparts.”

“And why a ‘couple’s cruise’? Surely there was another set to leave?”

His brows twitched upward and his jaw set. “Not until next week,” he told her. “I was under the impression you wanted this to be done and over, or was my assessment incorrect? I had to pull a lot of strings to get us on this boat, Miss Granger.” 

She sighed as the waiter returned to remove their plates and set an appetizer before them. She wrinkled her nose. “How many courses is this?” she asked, glancing up at the man. He was a young bloke, about her age, with dark hair and grey eyes.

“Five, ma’am,” he told her.

Hermione’s eyes widened a bit as she looked at her plate. “Goodness me,” she breathed. “We won’t be eating like this everyday, will we?” She glanced back up at the waiter.

The man looked confused and gave a slight nod of his head. “Yes, ma’am. Although, about midweek, there will be a ball, which will not include a five-course meal.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said in relief. 

“It’ll be seven courses, instead,” he finished.

“Oh, sweet Jesus!” she exclaimed. She stared at Lucius. “You eat this much everyday? How on earth are you not overweight?”

“They are proper portions, darling,” the pureblood assured her. “Also, you don’t have to eat everything.” He ate a bit of his own appetizer.

Hermione closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. When she reopened them, she stared at the pureblood wizard. “There are people dying of starvation in the streets, and if you’re rich you can just eat whatever you want and toss the rest away? Do you not see the folly in these ideals?”

He shrugged. “So, eat all of your food,” he told her. At her look of indignation, the wizard sighed. “Try not to judge that which you don’t know, Miss Granger. I’m sure Shacklebolt has informed you of the amount of money I put into rebuilding Wizarding Britain after the war. Were you aware of the orphanage that I had commissioned and the amount of money I donate to it on the regular to ensure they have food and supplies enough to cater to the orphaned children and young widows?”

She paused as she was lifting her fork to her mouth and looked at Lucius. “You built an orphanage?” she asked, her disbelief echoing in her words.

He lifted a brow. “Don’t sound so surprised, darling,” he chastised. “The war had nearly destroyed our world. As much as I am loathed to admit it, I almost lost everything because of the Dark Lord. And I did lose my wife and son.”

“They aren’t dead,” she argued.

Lucius rolled his eyes as he placed his fork on his plate. “Do you know how many Malfoys there have been who have gotten a divorce?” he asked. He didn’t wait for her to answer. “The answer, my dear, is one. I am sad to say that I am the sole owner of that title. I have brought more shame onto my family than you could imagine. A few Galleons thrown to the needy is the least I could do to repair what little reputation I have left. Perhaps if I throw enough of them, I could be seen as someone who has truly changed and I’ll finally be able to rid myself of such deplorable titles.”

“You wish to remarry?” she asked.

He scoffed. “It was my duty,” he informed her. “Given that I have an heir who is currently married and in the process of producing his own heir, I don’t really have a need to remarry. That being said, I cannot imagine living my life alone, but I don’t see witches lining up at my door either.”

“You told Hector that you were planning on seducing me,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

He smirked. “That I did,” he admitted. “Hector Carlisle is a hopeless lecher who will try to seduce anyone he can get his hands on, especially if he knows he can get away with it. By informing him of my intentions, I have effectively turned him away from you.”

“But you weren’t serious,” she concluded. This idea relieved her immensely, though she did feel a twinge of something she couldn’t quite identify in the pit of her stomach. Did it upset her that he wasn’t truly interested in her? Of course not! She was being silly.

He watched her for a moment, taking in the various expressions that crossed her face. For the brightest witch of her age, she was astoundingly good at wearing her heart on her sleeve. He smirked as his mind went through all of her qualifications. Such a pity she was Muggle-born. “I do believe you were correct in your assessment of me, however, Miss Granger. Remarrying would be in my best interest. Being that I already have an heir, my options have greatly expanded.”

She frowned at that comment. “But if you didn’t have an heir, you would have to seek out another pureblood,” she spat.

“My father is gone,” he informed her. “As is the Dark Lord. I have been disgraced as well, given the part I had played in the war and my downfall. I highly doubt there is any woman who would be interested in helping me continue my bloodline.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” she said. The main course came and they waited as the server placed the food down in front of them and picked up their appetizer plates. Once he was gone again, Hermione picked up her glass of champagne and took a sip from it. “Most of the women I know would do anything to be the wife of a Malfoy.” She made a face and shrugged. “Well, most of the women who aren’t already taken or are good friends of mine, that is. I hear talk all over the office about it.”

He said nothing to that end. Taking another sip of his champagne, he switched the subject. “And you, Miss Granger?”

“What about me?” she countered, frowning.

“To my understanding, you were engaged to marry the young Mr. Weasley,” he commented. “Recently, I read that the two of you had separated as friends, however, and this engagement was concluded.”

“You read correctly,” Hermione said as she pushed some peas with her fork. 

“You’re a young, beautiful, intelligent, and talented witch,” he said. “Might I ask why it is you’ve decided not to settle down yourself?”

She didn’t meet his eyes as she felt herself blush. “You flatter me,” she stated. 

A soft smile graced his lips as he idly rubbed his bottom lip with his forefinger. “On the contrary, my dear. I speak only truth.”

She snorted. “Imagine that. Lucius Malfoy speaking truth,” she chuckled. She shook her head. Looking up at him, she frowned.”What’s it to you, anyway? Ron and I had a very passionate relationship, but we’ve always been more friends than lovers and, unfortunate as it sounds, we do better as friends.”

A part of him felt angered by the idea that she had expressed disbelief that he could be honest. Lifting his hand, he picked up the champagne bottle and poured himself some more. Tilting the bottle in her direction, he poured some more into her glass when she offered it up. “I can assure you, Miss Granger, I am very rarely dishonest. In fact, I abhor dishonesty and only use it when it is absolutely necessary,” he said as he replaced the bottle into the bucket. Picking up his glass, he continued, “As for your relationship with young Ronald, it interests me only in the sense that I am glad you’ve come to your senses about him. You are far too bright to allow yourself to be brought down by a man who could never challenge you intellectually.”

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Mr. Malfoy, I don’t know how many more compliments from you I can take,” she said sarcastically. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were under the influence of an Imperius curse.”

He gave her a small wink as the server came and replaced their plates with dessert. “Is that truly what you would surmise to happen for a man to take notice of you?” he asked curiously.

“No,” she said as she dipped her spoon into her apple pie with custard. She glanced almost longingly at Lucius’s steamed chocolate with chocolate custard and strawberry coolie, but the pie was delicious. She licked her spoon as she finished her reply to the wizard, “There are many men who have taken notice of me, I’m sure. However, we’re not talking about normal men. We’re talking about you. And you aren’t the sort who would normally take notice of someone like me.”

His predatory eyes watched as she licked her spoon and polished off another bite of her pie. The tightening in his trousers made him long for a dash to the lavatory so he could adjust them, but he knew it would be impolite to do such. He took another sip of his champagne to help calm his ruddy hormones. “It seems that is yet something else we’ll have to disagree on, I’m afraid,” he commented. “You may be from humble birth, but you are a fine witch and, forgive me for speaking so boldly, any man, even one such as myself, should be honoured to draw your attention.”

“I do believe the sea has truly muddled your thoughts, Mr. Malfoy. Please do us both a favour and try to remember who I am to you when you speak,” she said.

“And who do you think you are to me?” he questioned.

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. She snarled lowly, “If I recall correctly, the term is a ‘Mudblood.’”

She stood up suddenly and threw her napkin on the table. He stood as well. “Where are you going?” he asked, his eyes narrowed angrily at her.

“I’m going to bed,” she stated. “And you better not even think about joining me in that bed, either.”

As she turned on her heel and started to walk away from him, he grabbed her arm and stopped her. They glared at one another. “You will release me, sir,” she growled.

“Don’t ever use that word again, do you understand me? You may be Muggle-born, but you are more than that.”

“I am a Mudblood,” she repeated to spite him. “Bellatrix Lestrange made sure I would never forget it, or did it slip your mind that she personally tattooed that word on my arm? I am proud to be a Mudblood. Now, let me go.” She yanked her arm out of his hand and stormed away from him.

~*~

Hermione awoke the next morning to find the room empty and clean. A bouquet of pink and white roses sat in an elegant vase atop the nightstand next to her. She didn’t remember seeing them there the night before and quickly surmised that either Lucius or a maid must have put them there.

She went about her morning, showering and getting dressed, and wondered if there were shops on board. What did a person do on a couple’s cruise that did not involve both halves of the partnership? She sighed as she sat at the vanity and ran a brush through her hair. Maybe they had a convenience shop that she could buy some Sleekeazy…

“Good morning,” a voice said, drawing her out of her musings.

She turned to see Lucius standing in the doorway. “You look chipper,” she commented as he entered the room.

He snorted. “Doubtful,” he replied, causing her to smile a little.

She turned her attention back to the mirror and continued to brush her hair. “Do you know if they have a shop on board where I can buy some Sleekeazy? Only, I’ve forgotten mine at home in my forty-five minute rush to pack. I’ll also need some clothes.”

“There should be new clothing in your armoire,” he told her. “As for the potion, I believe I may have some in my effects.”

He walked to the closet where he had kept his things. It took him a moment, but then he reappeared with the potion in his hand. Turning in her seat again, Hermione let out a breath of relief and smiled. “May I borrow some, please?” she asked.

He approached her and popped the top open. “Turn around,” he said as he poured some of the potion in his hand. 

Hermione frowned but did as he asked. Less than a moment later, she felt him run his hands through her hair. She closed her eyes as he gently massaged her scalp and combed her hair with his fingers. “You have beautiful curls,” he commented as he cupped a handful of them. “And so natural. I can imagine many women are envious of them.”

“I’m still angry with you,” she told him without steam. He rested his hands on her shoulders. “You tricked me onto a couple’s cruise, vanished my clothes, and completely embarrassed me at supper last night.”

He frowned as he gently kneaded her shoulders. “I fail to see how I embarrassed you last night,” he stated. “As for the clothes, you will find that they have been replenished with outfits more suitable to your station. As for the circumstances of the cruise, I believe I had explained that last night.”

She sighed. “Yes, I suppose you would think you had,” she said. “I still stand by my statement that we could have taken an aeroplane and we would have gotten there faster. As it is...”

“As it is,” he cut her off, “we are alive.” He lifted his hands from her shoulders and moved away from her. “You may not wish to believe that we would have died on that Muggle contraption, and, honestly, darling, I could care less. This ship is far safer and we get to dine in luxury.”

She rolled her eyes. “You did, at least, get me a bikini, right?”

He frowned. “Why in Merlin’s name would you want one of those?”

She scoffed and stood up to face him. “This ship does have a pool, I imagine. I wouldn’t mind going for a dip or, perhaps, lounging in a chair to tan in the sun. Or did you not think of either of these things?” As she went to walk past him, he moved in front of her to block her.

“Breakfast is in a few minutes,” he told her. 

“Good,” she said as she sidestepped him. “After we eat, you can show me where the shop is so I can buy a bikini to wear.”

She walked past him and he watched her as she moved away from him. Just imagining what she’d look like in a bikini made his cock twitch and he licked his lips. This was going to be an interesting voyage for certain.

~*~ 

Lucius stared at the young witch as she stepped out of the lavatory. “Miss Granger, might I ask why you chose to come in here wearing nothing but your intimates?” he asked. The matching garments were a deep shade of red and he had a mind to snap at her to put on some clothes.

She rolled her eyes. “Have you never seen a woman in a bikini before, Mr. Malfoy?” she countered as she went to the vanity and checked her hair.

“I take it you found the pool?”

She pulled her hair back and secured it with a hair tie. “Not with your help,” she told him, wrinkling her nose at him. “But, yes, I did. It’s a nice looking pool, too. Very large. If you’re up to it, you’re welcomed to join, unless...” She hesitated and pressed her lips together. “Do you enjoy swimming, Mr. Malfoy?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t gone swimming since I was a lad,” he informed her.

She snorted. “What? Too undignified for you now?” she teased. She rolled her eyes again as she wrapped her towel about her torso. “Learn to live a little. Merlin knows you could use it, and what else is there to do on this ship? They don’t even have shuffleboard!”

He frowned at this. What was a shuffleboard? She was gone before he could ask, however.

His mind went back to the bit of cloth she had worn. He closed his eyes and it came back to his mind. It had barely covered her breasts… and her ass… He quickly reminded himself that he was a fifty year old man. He had a son who was the same age as the witch and a grandson on the way! 

He wasn’t certain if she had meant to tease him in such a way, to tempt him. However, the vision of her had gone straight to his groin and had him searching his own closet for appropriate attire. As he thought of it, he stopped his search and took out a pair of y-fronts. Grumbling to himself about the absurd madness that was currently wracking his brain, he took his wand out from his cane and transfigured the y-fronts into an acceptable pair of green trunks.

He remembered when Draco had been a boy and the time Narcissa and he had taken the child to a beach in Italy. A smirk played on his lips as he remembered some of the costumes many of the blokes there had worn.

Well, Miss Granger, he thought, you wish to tease, do you? Two can play at this game…

~*~

Hermione was sun bathing on one of the lounge chairs by the pool. She wasn’t sure how the captain and his team had done it, but the ship’s deck was pleasantly warm and she was reminded of the beaches in Greece and even the States.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the light breeze that played across her skin. It was almost a shame that Lucius had refused to join her, but then, she wasn’t too disappointed with the idea. They had only been on the ship for two days and she found herself being drawn to him. She hated it, too. He was a Death Eater, she reminded herself.

Although, he had been acquitted, too. He had turned away from Voldemort and those old ideals. She would have to do some research when she returned home, but she had a sinking feeling that he was telling the truth about his donations and the orphanage. 

“Do tell me that you had placed a sun blocking spell on your skin, Miss Granger,” came his deep baritone. 

She shrugged carelessly. “I want to get a tan,” she explained, “and I don’t burn as easily as you probably do.”

She opened her eyes and her voice caught in her throat. Lucius stood above her with a towel draped over one shoulder and wearing a black Speedo… and nothing else. His chiseled chest gave way to an eight-pack and his biceps were much larger than she had imagined. 

“You might want to close your mouth before a fly decides to make a home in it,” he suggested as a knowing smirk graced his lips.

Hermione clamped her mouth shut, her teeth hitting one another and causing him to chuckle as he sat on a chair next to her. Even his calf muscles were perfectly sculpted and had a fine brush of platinum hair. It had to be illegal to have a body like his and she thought about informing Kingsley of that infraction.

No, that might not be a good idea. After all, he would probably just laugh at her as Lucius was doing now. She pinched her lips together and closed her eyes. Licking her dry lips, she opened her eyes to look him in the face… not his chest, Hermione, his _face_! “I’m stunned you decided to join me,” she told him, and silently berated herself at the squeakiness of her voice. _Sweet Merlin, Hermione, he’s just a man!_

He shrugged as he leaned back against the lounge chair and rested his legs… his long, well-toned legs… on top of it. “Honestly, darling, I don’t see what all the fuss is about. So, you’ll just lay out here in a chair and… what did you call it? Get a tan? Here I thought you wanted to go for a dip in the pool.”

“They were cleaning it when I got here,” she explained to him. “While waiting, I got a little cozy on the chair and just didn’t have the urge to get up and go into the pool.”

He smirked at her. “I will say that it is actually nice to be out here by the pool,” he said to her as he cast his eyes to the water. Some people were splashing one another while others just waded in the pool and chatted.

“It is,” she agreed as she followed his gaze. She stole another glance at him before looking back out at the water. She shouldn’t be astonished that his body was sculpted so well. After all, he _was_ a Malfoy, which meant he was egotistical and self-centered. However, “I must say, though, Mr. Malfoy, seeing you in a Speedo took me completely by surprise.”

“Did it, now?” he asked, his smirk still playing on his lips.

She frowned. Wrinkling her nose, she questioned, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He lifted a brow as he looked at her and posed his own question, “Should I not? You were the one who told me to ‘live a little.’ I’m merely taking your advice.”

He lifted his arms to tuck his hands behind his head and she caught a glimpse of the faded Mark. It was a very light red in color, almost pink, but his complexion made it stand out more than it probably should have. She glanced down at her lap and her eyes wandered to her own scar and a melancholy overcame her. 

“Do you ever regret it?” she asked.

The depressed tone of her voice startled him and he glanced at her to find her staring at the scar on her arm. It was the first time he had seen it since the night Bellatrix had given it to her. Like his own Mark, it was mostly faded, but he could still see the word. He frowned as he sat up and turned towards her, letting his feet fall onto the deck. 

He knew that he would never be able to find the right words or actions to correct what had been done to her, though he had tried. “Nothing we do will ever change what had been done,” he said softly as he reached out to take her hand into his. He was pleasantly glad when she had allowed him to do so. “Do I wish things had been different? Yes, I do, however, I was a product of the environment in which I had grown up. I had held some beliefs and had done some things that I am not proud of anymore. But if I hadn’t done those things, I never would have become the man I am now.”

She glanced at him, meeting his eyes. “And what man are you now?” she asked, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “A man who is trying to change for the better,” he told her. 

She watched him as he kissed her hand and listened to his words. Leaning forward, she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck and drew him into a hug. She felt his hand on her back and then the other joined it as he pressed her more firmly against him, burying his face into her hair. 

Hugging Lucius Malfoy wasn’t something she had planned on doing, however, it did feel nice. His strong arms made her feel safe in them and that was something she had never expected to feel with him. That was when she remember that they were both half nude.

Pulling away from him slightly, she met his eyes again. “You’re making progress,” she told him. “Between the orphanage and all the donations you’ve made, I doubt anyone would equate you to a Death Eater anymore.”

He chuckled as his hands rested on her waist. “You would be surprised, Miss Granger,” he said to her.

“Hermione,” she corrected. “Given that I managed to lure you out to the pool in naught but a Speedo, I do believe you have earned the right to call me by my first name.”

He lifted a hand to cup her jaw gently. “Only if you call me Lucius,” he offered in turn.

Her eyes widened when she saw his glance down at her lips. Was he going to kiss her? As he began to lean forward, she nervously leaned back, pulling completely out of his embrace. She gave him a soft, nervous smile. “Thank you, Lucius,” she said.

Taking the hint, he pulled back as well and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “For what?” he asked.

“Oh, for giving me permission to call you by your name,” she answered as she mentally kicked herself. “And for coming out here with me. The image of Lucius Malfoy in a Speedo will forever be burned into my memory.” She gave a light giggle at her own comment.

His smirk returned. “I do hope it is a good memory,” he stated.

Her smile widened as she stood up. “Oh, trust me, it is,” she assured him. “Ginny will never believe it.”

“And I will forever deny it,” he countered. 

She giggled again. “Would you like to go into the pool?” she asked.

“I thought you’d never suggest it.”


	3. Chapter 2

Hermione woke the next morning feeling groggy. Her head hurt like mad and she wondered just how many mimosas she had had. She remembered drinking them. That, and… did she drink margaritas, too? She groaned as she thought of it. She never could handle her tequila well.

As she slowly returned to the land of the living, she felt a heavy arm draped over her body. A naked, heavy arm. Her eyes shot open and she immediately regretted it. She squinted against the morning sun and glanced down at the arm. She knew exactly whom it belonged to as she could both hear and feel his breathing behind her. Her inner child wanted to scream and shout, but she stopped herself from reacting in such a way. As gently as she could, she slipped out from under his arm and out of the bed. 

She turned to look at him. As her body left his side, he naturally shifted so that he lay flat on his stomach, his arm curled around the pillow she had slept on. Thankfully, the bottom half of his body was covered with the sheet, but damn. Even his back was well muscled. His long white blond hair bunched about his head, loose strands falling across those muscles, highlighting the contours of his body. 

She glanced down at her own body and was mildly surprised that she still wore her bikini. Did they do anything? She racked her brain, but she honestly couldn’t remember. Sighing, she turned to the bathroom and flipped on the shower. 

Yesterday went through her mind as she thought about everything that had happened. She definitely remembered the alcohol. She also remembered getting into the water and playing a sort of splash-tag with Lucius. And more alcohol. Good Lord, she had never drank so much in her life!

As she cleaned her body, she didn’t find any evidence of nefarious acts and silently concluded that they hadn’t gone down that road, but she knew the only way she could be absolutely certain was if she asked him. She sighed as she washed alcohol from her hair… Had Lucius dumped tequila on her head? Then she remembered doing the same to him, so he had only done so in retaliation. 

She washed her hair twice as she thought of that, hoping she got all the tequila out of her hair. Despite their dislike of one another, Hermione found herself pleasantly happy about the events of yesterday, even if she was having to deal with a slight hangover. Who knew Lucius could actually be fun to be around?

She shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around her torso, she went to the sink and brushed her teeth. A part of her feared facing Lucius after everything that had happened yesterday and last night, but she quickly pushed that aside. What did she have to fear, really? Yesterday she had seen a side of Lucius she hadn’t even realized existed. He may have a checkered past, indeed, his past was the thing of nightmares and horror movies, but she didn’t see any of that yesterday. In fact, she had seen the exact opposite. He still had his mannerisms and etiquette, sure, but he was… fun. And funny as hell, too!

She opened the door and almost jumped back as Lucius stood there, his forehead resting on the door frame. “Do you mind?” he asked when she didn’t move immediately.

“Oh!” she said as she slipped past him. “Of course.”

She turned to look at him and he slammed the door behind him. She winced at how loud it was. She turned from the door as she heard water running and went to her armoire to dress for the day. She was pleasantly surprised by the clothing he had bought for her. She was still annoyed that he had destroyed her clothing, especially the sweater Molly had made for her and the Gryffindor jacket she had, but he did naturally have good taste. And she liked how there were a mixture of various colors and plenty of red. 

She dressed, choosing a light pink poet’s blouse and a black skirt that went past her knees. She also chose some pink heeled sandals. She was sitting at the vanity, running her brush through her hair, as Lucius emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Neither said anything as she combed the Sleekeazy through her hair.

“You owe me a bottle of that,” he told her by way of greeting before disappearing into his closet.

Hermione smiled to herself and picked up some pink lip gloss. “Don’t worry. I’ll pay you back,” she assured him. As she capped her lip gloss and dropped it back onto the vanity, she called out, “Did you need any hangover potion? I have some in my bag I can give you if you need it.”

He stepped out of his closet dressed in dark green robes and looked at her. “You thought to bring hangover potion, but you forgot your Sleekeazy? I’m impressed,” he drawled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Did you need some or not?”

“No, but thank you for the offer,” he said. “I believe we missed breakfast.”

She wiped her hands on a hand towel and stood. “We could always just have brunch. Don’t they always have food available on this ship?”

He approached her and slipped his hands around her waist. The familiarity of his touch made her wonder, again, just how intimate they had been last night. He didn’t bend his head down to kiss her, though, and after a moment, he released her. “I’m sure we could find something, or, if you prefer, we could just go to lunch. It’ll be ready in thirty minutes.”

She nodded. “We could do that, but what would we do in thirty minutes?”

He smirked and his eyes flashed as he glanced over her. “I can think of a few things,” he answered.

She frowned. “Did we, um… Last night. I don’t quite...”

He shook his head. “No, we did not,” he assured her and she breathed a sigh of relief that made him raise an eyebrow.

“Thank God,” she said with a sigh. Then, catching herself, she looked at him in alarm. “I mean, the idea doesn’t appall me or anything, I just… Well, that isn’t really something I would want to do while hammered. I’d rather remember it. I mean, you are a good looking man and I’m sure doing that with you would be nice, but...”

“Hermione,” he interrupted. She stared at him, her eyes wide. She remembered telling him that he could call her by her name and she remembered him doing so, but hearing it from his lips again did something to her stomach. He approached her again, touching her hips. 

“Y-yes, Lucius?” she stammered breathlessly as she looked up at him. Was he going to kiss her? She couldn’t remember if they had kissed last night. As he bent his head down and hovered his lips over hers, she thought for sure he was going to. She licked her lips in anticipation and they parted expectantly.

His hot breath touched her lips, flaming them, as he spoke, “I will never do anything against your will. I have been called many things, darling, but never a rapist, and I don’t intend to earn that title now.”

She tilted her head upward as she looked into his molten eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.

He kissed her cheek and pulled away from her. “Come. By the time we reach the dining hall, lunch should be served,” he informed her as he held his hand out to her.

As she took his hand, he kissed the back of it before tucking it in his arm and leading her out of the room. As they entered the dining hall, it was just as he had anticipated. Servers walked about the tables, taking orders and filling drinks.

Hermione leaned into Lucius, and said softly, “Remind me to never drink tequila again.”

He chuckled. “Oh, darling, I will make certain you drink tequila again,” he teased.

She wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at him. As he chuckled, the waiter came and took their orders. Thankfully, lunch did not require a five course meal and they were treated with simple sandwiches instead.

It ended up being a rather short day, due to their late start. They had walked about the ship, seeing what there was to do upon it. Hermione tempted Lucius into a game of billiards, which she instantly regretted when he easily beat her, leaving five of her billiard balls on the table. He had even attempted to show her how to play, though she had already known. 

Overall, it had been a rather nice day, which surprised her. Hermione wondered, as they sat down for their evening meal, if he was actually trying to seduce her or if he was just naturally charming. Of course, neither idea would really surprise her. Maybe he was both. Though, if he truly was trying to charm her, she knew she would have to be careful. He had come so close to kissing her at least three times. She remembered a moment from the day before when they had nearly kissed, both while sitting on the lounge chairs and again as he was holding her in the bed.

As she ate her warm pudding, her mind went through the events of the day. How many times Lucius had touched her, whether he was holding her hand, or touching her waist. At one point, he had even swiped a finger over her cheek to get rid of some crumbs. And this morning, he had actually kissed her on the cheek. What did that mean?

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” he commented as he took a sip of his wine.

She gave a small smile. “Forgive me. My mind has been elsewhere,” she admitted. “It’s been an interesting day so far.”

“They’ll have fireworks tonight. Would you care to join me on our private balcony to watch them?” he asked, watching her.

She blushed lightly as she reached for her own wine. “I’d love to,” she told him. Biting her lower lip, she suddenly blurted, “Are you trying to seduce me, Lucius?” The moment the words left her mouth, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

“I believe I do, and there is no need to apologize for it,” he replied. “We have approximately three more days on this ship and another two weeks in Australia as we seek out your parents and restore their memories. To answer your question, seduction is not my intent towards you. Though you are beautiful and intelligent, I am aware of the age difference between us.”

“Are you?” she asked, looking at him. “Because, honestly, Lucius, it truly befuddled me yesterday. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you cut a very impressive figure in your little Speedo. I had always just assumed that you were little more than skin, bones, and fat under your robes, like many of your counterparts I have seen. You don’t look fifty and yesterday, you certainly didn’t act like it. You’ve come a long way from the Death Eater I once knew you to be.”

His soft smile held something in it that she couldn’t quite determine. “Your words are very flattering, darling,” he said. “When the Dark Lord died that day, I had felt a weight lift off of my shoulders. I felt confident for once in my life and ready to rebuild that which I had nearly destroyed.” He looked up at her. “Does my age truly bother you?”

She shook her head. “Does it bother you?” she returned. “My mother had once told me that age was just a number. She always encouraged me to be mature and think things through before acting upon them. Between my father and she, they instilled a need for knowledge within me that helped me through life, especially when I started Hogwarts. My hunger for knowledge grew as I began learning about magic.”

He nodded slowly, but frowned. “So, through your answer, I am assuming that it does not bother you?” he questioned.

She shook her head again. “I have found that men my age tend to be… less mature than they should. I love both Harry and Ron and would do anything for them in a heartbeat, but… Sometimes I feel like I’m their mum rather than their friend and all I want is some adult time.”

“Didn’t Mr. Potter marry the young Miss Weasley some time ago?” he asked and she nodded.

“And she does help a lot,” she said as she placed her fork back onto her plate. “It’s why I am glad that Ron finally found someone as well, even if I don’t agree with his choice of partner. They both still have a tendency to come to me with big decisions, though, and it can be quite nerve-wracking to say the least.”

As the server came to their table and began clearing their plates, Lucius stood up and offered Hermione his hand. “Shall we retire to our room for the evening?” he suggested.

She took his hand and he kissed the back of it before tucking it into his arm and leading her out of the hall. They had gotten many looks and a few inquiries about their health and well-being, but for the most part, people did not bother them. Even Mr. Carlisle and his wife seemed more content to speak and spend time with one another rather than be around Lucius and Hermione. The Muggle-born wasn’t entirely sure how she should take this, but she kept her mouth shut about it.

The moment they were in their room, they released one another. Lucius fell onto the bed, grabbing the latest copy of the Daily Prophet as Hermione went to her armoire to grab her night garments and slip into the lavatory to change.

When she came back into the bedroom, she found Lucius standing by the balcony door in his dressing gown and looking out at the sea. She joined him by the door and touched his elbow, drawing him back from his thoughts. He gave her a little smile and opened the door.

“It’s a beautiful night,” she commented as she leaned against the railing. 

He walked up next to her and placed a hand at the small of her back. “It is,” he replied. 

She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “So calm and peaceful. You’d never know this ship was full of people.”

He didn’t respond to her as the firework show began. Hermione jumped a little at the sound of the explosion and Lucius rubbed her back. “Are you alright, darling?” he asked.

She closed her eyes and nodded as another firework exploded in the sky. “I’m fine,” she told him. “It just… It’s been years since the war.” She looked up at the sky as another firework went off. The blue lights gave her a grim smile. As Lucius tightened his hold on her, she leaned more into him and sighed. “This feels nice, and safe.”

He rested his chin on the top of her head as they watched the fireworks. It had been years since he had held a woman so close to him. Despite her heritage, or perhaps in spite of it, he wanted to turn her around and kiss her, though he dared not. Aside from the lack of welcome he was certain he would receive, he did not believe she would be much interested in taking things further.

She had been silent throughout supper and he wasn’t sure how to take that. Her hesitance this morning had spoken volumes to him, even though she was quite animated throughout the day. He was enjoying their time together and was almost disheartened at the idea that it would end soon.

“What do you hope will happen once we restore your parents’ memories?” he asked. He instantly berated himself for questioning her.

She shrugged. “I suppose we’ll return to England. I’ll go back to work and things will return to normal.”

Of course they would. Lucius had never been one to feel discouraged by the idea of things returning to “normal”, but things were beginning to change for him. Originally he had no intention of taking this little trip any further than it needed to go. As he thought it over, he found himself imagining Hermione remaining by his side, perhaps even helping him with his little pet projects and…, well, he couldn’t hope for marriage, but if he were to remarry… No. A witch such as she deserved a far better wizard than what he was, even if he was changing. Her blood status didn’t even matter to him anymore in that regard.

She turned around in his embrace and rested her hands on his chest as she looked up at him. “Forgive me for being so bold, but… are you ever going to kiss me?” she asked as she gazed up into his eyes.

Lucius was startled by the question for a moment. He raised an eyebrow. “Looks like it is you who is trying to seduce me, my dear,” he taunted with a smirk.

As she opened her mouth to protest, he dipped his head down and captured her lips with his. He hadn’t planned on doing so the moment the firework finale occurred, but as luck would have it, it did. He pulled her in closer to him as he deepened the kiss. 

Suddenly, Hermione no longer cared about the sudden increase of explosions that happened as she lifted her hands to Lucius’s head, burying her fingers in his hair. As their tongues met and began to explore one another, Hermione moaned softly. 

As Lucius lifted her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her into the bedroom. She had no idea how he had managed to open the balcony door, but she didn’t care. Breaking the kiss, he gently set her down upon the bed. His hooded eyes were clouded with lust as he untied his dressing gown and pulled it off.

Biting her bottom lip in anticipation, Hermione scooted further onto the bed. She smirked as he crawled onto the bed after her. As she lay down, he covered her body with his own and pressed his lips upon hers again. Hermione lifted a leg and wrapped it around his waist as he cupped a breast, and pressed his growing erection against her clothed body. She arched her back, allowing her head to fall back as he messaged her breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb. His kisses left a wet trail down her face to her neck where he spend time tasting the flesh there.

She moaned in pleasure as she fisted his undershirt and pulled it up. Sitting up, he tugged the shirt off. She sat up as well and let her fingers roam over his hardened flesh. Her teeth held onto her lip as her hand pressed against his heated skin. He was so smooth and just… Her thoughts were cut off again as he kissed her, pushing her back to lying down. He began untying her own dressing gown, pushing it off her shoulders. He push her flimsy tank top up and capture her nipple between his lips, sucking on it as he massaged her other breast. 

“Oh, god,” she cried as she tried to press her breast against him more. 

Panting heavily, he released her nipple and looked up at her. “You are so beautiful, darling,” he told her. As he kissed her lips, his hand traveled past her navel, slipping into her knickers. 

His deft fingers found her clitoris and he pinched it. She wrenched her mouth from his and cried out, arching her back. He smirked as he kept his thumb at her clit and allowed his fingers to roam further. He licked his lips. “So wet for me, my love,” he teased as his fingers played with her opening. He pressed his forefinger into her and watched as she melted against his touch, her hips moving on their own accord as he pumped his finger into her. “Are you a virgin, darling?” he asked.

She looked up at him in confusion as he continued to move his finger inside her. “Bit late for that question, don’t you think?” she commented. “If you must know, the answer is no. I’m not.”

“Good,” he said as he added a second finger and began pumping her faster. 

She gasped as she lifted her hips and grabbed the duvet under her. “Oh, god,” she moaned as she threw her head back. Lucius’s lips latched back onto her nipple, his tongue flicking the teat, and she lost it.

Releasing her again, he watched as she fell upon the bed, trying to catch her breath. He leaned down and kissed her softly upon the lips. He rolled away from her and grabbed his cane, which was propped by the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she gazed at him. 

He pointed his wand at the closet and opened the door. With another whispered spell, a vial began floating towards them. He caught it easy and crawled back to her. He unstoppered the vial and tipped the contents back into his mouth, swallowing them. He made a face as he licked his lips and showed her the vial. “Birth control,” he explained.

She tilted her head and smirked at him. “Worried you would accidentally father a half-blood?” she asked.

He frowned. “Did you wish to become pregnant this evening?” he countered, curiously.

Her brows knitted together. “Well, no. Not particularly,” she replied. “Not like this.”

He leaned forward and kissed her. “I agree,” he told her. 

He reached down to undo the tie around her robes Hermione moaned against his lips as he resumed playing with her clit. As she purred he hovered above her and began kissing her along her jaw to her neck. She lifted her legs to rest them round his waist and, with a little adjusting, she felt him press against her.

Arching her back, she bit her lip and hummed. “Yes,” she whispered, lifting her arms to drape over his shoulders as her hands buried themselves in his hair. 

As he pushed against her, she closed her eyes and winced a little. He was larger than she had expected. As he seated himself fully inside of her, she opened her mouth in awe at his size and moaned.

“Fuck!” he breathed as he fisted her hair. He kissed her absently as he filled her. He looked down at her. “Are you sure you weren’t a virgin?” he asked.

She gave a breathless laugh as she nodded. “It’s just been a while,” she assured him.

He pushed some hair out of her face as he rested on his elbows and looked down at her. “Are you alright, darling?” 

Smiling, she tucked a bit of his hair behind his ear. “Yes,” she replied. “I’m more than alright. If you want, you can move.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “I almost fear that if I do, I won’t last long,” he joked. “You’re so tight and it’s been a while for me as well.”

She glanced at the balcony window before looking back at him. “We have all night,” she promised him.

He bent his head down again and kissed her as he began moving slowly. Each thrust was met with sighs and groans and it didn’t take much before he grunted his release. He apologized to her for the quickness, though she assured him that he didn’t need to.

~*~

Hermione turned in the bed and reached out for Lucius, only to find the bed empty. Opening her eyes, she blinked against the morning sun and sat up. She frowned as she glanced around to see an empty room. The bathroom door opened and she sighed in relief, falling back on the bed.

Lucius walked into the room and Hermione’s eyes widened at his dress, or rather, lack of. “Good morning, darling,” he greeted as he returned to the bed.

The young witch smiled as he joined her and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. “Good morning,” she chimed. “I do believe this is the first time I’ve seen you completely unclothed. Mr. Malfoy,” she added, teasingly. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Would you like me to dress?” he questioned.

She glanced at his chest and let her eyes rove back up to his. “You don’t have to,” she said with a shrug. “Though, I doubt we’ll make breakfast. At least, I don’t think it would be appropriate to arrive with nary a stitch on.”

“We could always order room service,” he suggested as he gently ran his fingers up and down her arm.

She stared at him for a moment. “That would be nice,” she told him.

He frowned. “You sound uncertain. What’s wrong?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Maybe it’s just me, but do you think we may be moving too fast? I mean, we’ve been on this ship for, what, three days? Less than a week ago, if someone had told me I would be traveling on a ship with Lucius Malfoy and having sex with him, I’d question their sanity. And yet… Here we are. It’s just… strange, isn’t it?”

He rested on an elbow as he looked at her. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “Merlin knows I would have probably hexed the person who would suggest that same thing, but, then again, how strange is it really? We’re both adults. We’re intelligent and we make a very handsome pair.”

“No, you and Narcissa made a handsome pair.”

“I would prefer if Narcissa wasn’t a part of this discussion,” he stated as he sat up and moved to lean against the headboard. “She was a woman who was chosen for me.”

“And now you get to choose,” she surmised. “But why me? You could have any witch you want, so...”

His frown deepened. “Apparently,” he clipped. After a moment, he asked, “Are you regretting your decision to have sex with me?”

She shook her head. “Of course not,” she replied. “I just...”

“So, why are we having this discussion?” he questioned, cutting her off. He reached out to touch her, but paused mid-air. “I don’t know what you want me to say to convince you that I am attracted to you, Hermione.”

“You weren’t attracted to me a few days ago,” she pointed out. “And you’ve never even liked me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Again with the assumptions,” he drawled. “Have I ever stated that I did not like you? You barely even know me, much less how I feel.”

She squared her jaw angrily. “You were a Death Eater. You hated me. You, along with your horrid son, used to torment Harry, Ron, and me,” she spat.

Lucius narrowed his eyes. “First Narcissa and then Draco,” he mused as he glared at her. “While I don’t give a rat’s arse about my ex-wife, you will do well to leave Draco out of this conversation. When you were in Hogwarts, yes, I allowed my prejudices to blind me to the people I interacted with, however, ‘hate’ is a strong word. I didn’t even know you. Much has changed since then and I have been trying to move past my previous misdeeds. You have always intrigued me, that much, Miss Granger, is true. From the moment Draco first told me of you, I have been interested.”

“I was a child! That would have been...”

“Calm yourself,” he ordered briskly, causing her to snap her mouth shut. “I didn’t say I was attracted to you, I said I was intrigued by you. Honestly, I thought Draco might have been attracted to you, so I learned as much as I could about you for his sake, not my own. Besides, I was married and I do not believe in entertaining mistresses.”

She scoffed and looked away from him. “But after you and Narcissa had divorced and with Draco out of the way, you suddenly found yourself attracted to me,” she surmised rather sardonically.

“Narcissa and I divorced after Draco married,” he told her.

She nodded. “Yes, I remember reading it in the Prophet. Bit convenient, isn’t it?”

“Convenient for whom, Hermione?” he asked, his anger simmering. 

She didn’t know why she was arguing with him. They had had an amazing night. At the same time, she recognized how quickly they were moving and it concerned her. He was a Death Eater and former Slytherin. From what she knew of the Malfoy family, they took pride in their Hogwarts house, so she wouldn’t put it past him to have some villainous reason for wanting to get with her. Ever the opportunist. 

She sighed. “I just… I know how these things work. As per Kingsley, we are partners in returning my parents’ memories. We have to work together for the next few weeks, if not longer. So far things have been great. Unexpected, but still… good,” she admitted. “I’m just worried that you’re taking me down a path where I will end up getting hurt. I went through a lot when Ron and I broke up.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I am not Mr. Weasley,” he pointed out.

“Thank God for that,” she stated in relief. “You’d look atrocious with ginger hair.” As his face contorted in disgust, she giggled.

He watched her as she laughed. His expression softened and he tilted his head to the side. “Are we finished with this conversation now?” he asked curiously.

She sighed and he reached out to her, drawing her into his lap. She rested her head on his chest. “I am still interested as to what your intentions are with all of this. Do you see us in a relationship or is this just something we’re doing right now because it’s convenient?”

He kissed the top of her head and rested his chin upon it as he rubbed her arm. “To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought,” he told her. Pulling away from her slightly, he looked down at her. “Where do you see this going, Hermione?”

She pressed her lips together as she ran her fingers along his abdomen. She traced a scar she hadn’t noticed before. “What is this from?” she asked him, a little surprised that a Malfoy such as he would have any sort of marking on him that wasn’t the Dark Mark.

He glanced down to look at the scar in question and shrugged. “When I was a teenager, my comrades and I would often practice the Dark Arts on one another. I believe that scar is from one of those events, though I could be wrong. It happened so long ago I’ve forgotten I even have it,” he admitted. 

Of all the answers she was expecting, that hadn’t been one of them. “Were you ever scared?” she asked, looking up at him. “When you were a Death Eater, that is.”

He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Part of being a Death Eater is living in fear,” he explained. “At the time I felt justified in what I was doing. In my mind, I was attempting to build a better life for my wife and son. However, I did feel some relief when the Dark Lord had been defeated the first time. When he returned, I lived in a constant state of fear, but I had much more to lose, especially with the task Draco had been given. He had been expected to fail.”

“So, why follow him?” she asked, letting her eyes drop to his chest again.

He tucked some hair behind her ear as he answered, “I suppose I felt like I didn’t have much choice. You can’t really hide from the Dark Lord. If he wants to, he will find you.”

She smirked. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Harry, Ron, and I evaded him for over a year and the only reason he ‘found’ us was because we were ready to be found,” she explained.

He raised an eyebrow. “You were caught once before that by some Snatchers, if I recall,” he said.

“Only because Harry slipped up,” she argued.

He nodded in understanding. “That’s usually all it takes,” he told her as he kissed her hair again.

She looked up at him, letting her head fall back. He bent his head down and kissed her lips softly. It was then that her stomach decided to growl. She blushed as she broke the kiss and he chuckled. “Sounds like someone is hungry.”

Her cheeks reddened even more as he reached over to the nightstand and pressed a button. A house elf appeared with a crack and Lucius nodded to it. “Miss Granger and I would like some breakfast delivered to us,” he told the elf.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Malfoy, sir,” the elf replied as he disappeared. 

Hermione frowned. “I didn’t realize they had house elves on the ship, too,” she commented.

Moments later, the elf reappeared with a large serving cart. There were several dishes upon it. The couple watched as the elf laid the food out upon the table and disappeared. Hermione’s frown deepened and Lucius glanced at her.

“What is it?” he asked. He immediately regretted his choice of words as she began.

“Did you not see it?” she questioned, waving a hand at where the house elf had been. “I thought the ones making and serving food here were humans, but...”

“There are humans who serve food here,” he argued.

“That wasn’t a human,” she told him angrily. “It was a house elf and, more than likely, it was a slave, like all house elves tend to be.”

He rolled his eyes. “There you go making assumptions again,” he commented. His hands touched her sides, urging her to move. When she did, he climbed out of the bed and walked towards the table. Glancing at her, he inquired, “Are you going to come eat?”

She grabbed her dressing gown, which was, amazingly, still hanging off the bed, and wrapped it around her as she joined him. “It’s not an assumption,” she spat.

He raised an eyebrow. “So, there are house elves on this ship,” he said with a shrug. “Will you accuse me of enslaving house elves as well if I told you that I had a few of my own at the manor?”

She frowned. “Yes,” she answered simply. “But I already knew you kept house elves.”

He nodded as he scooped up a spoonful of beans and ate them. Once he chewed and swallowed them, he dabbed his lips with a napkin and took a swig of pumpkin juice. “And I wouldn’t deny it,” he said. “However, you would be wrong to assume they were slaves. Just like the servants on this ship, they are paid employees, and in my case, they have benefits as well.”

She stared at him for a moment. “You pay your elves?” she asked.

He gave her a soft grin. “I do,” he admitted. He pointed his spoon at her. “What happened to that girl who was constantly asking questions? Draco always spoke of her and told me how annoying she tended to be. Since we’ve been on this voyage, you’ve been more quick to judge than simply ask. Where are the questions?”

Her eyes dropped to the pastry she was picking. She took a bite of it as she thought over his words. “I suppose I’ve become more cynical with time,” she mumbled softly, her brows knitting together. She looked up at him. “The war taught me much about the evils of the Wizarding world.”

“And yet you are often quick to point out that the Dark Lord is gone,” he told her as he took another sip of his juice. “I don’t fault you for your cynicism, darling. Believe me when I say there is much to be cynical about. However, assumptions can be dangerous. Before a person has a chance to defend themselves, you’ve already painted them into a villain.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve always done?” she asked. 

He looked at her. “Are you trying to become like me? I wouldn’t recommend it. There’s a reason I am trying to change.”

She shook her head and let her eyes drop back to her plate. “No, I’m not trying to become like you,” she told him.

He touched her hand and she looked back up at him. “I do not know the state of these elves,” he admitted, “aside from knowing they do get paid, which usually is an indicator that they are free.”

She gazed into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. “How do you know they get paid?”

His eyes softened in amusement. “Because I asked,” he stated with a chuckle. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “You may not have noticed it, darling, but you have begun making changes. Because of the research you’ve done and the policies you’ve attempted to push through, the way wizards are treating house elves is changing. More and more wizards are freeing their elves and offering them employment. It will take time, but I can see a future where the elves are all freed to do as they please.”

“And how do you see our future, Mr. Malfoy?” she asked, looking at him.

“Our?” he questioned, looking at though he was trying out the word. He took her hand, still rubbing the back of it, and glanced up at her, his eyebrows raised and a smile playing on his lips. “I would like to think that our future consisted more of the intimacy we’ve had, perhaps even an active courtship.”

She bit her bottom lip. “You wish to court me?”

He looked thoughtful at that question and, after a moment, he answered, “I don’t see why I shouldn’t. As I’ve told you before, my dear, you are an intelligent and beautiful witch. Though it hadn’t been my intention when this journey began, I can certainly see it heading in that direction. Of course, only if you will allow it.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and she turned her attention back to her food. “So, we’re ‘courting’ now?” she ventured.

He frowned at that. “I do believe to court you, I would have to speak, at length, with your father, as he is still alive,” he told her.

Her eyes shot up at him. “Why wouldn’t he be?” she asked.

“Did I indicate otherwise, darling?” he questioned in return, looking at her curiously. “You’re rather… jumpy this morning.”

She shook her head. “I think I’m still coming to terms with what happened last night,” she admitted. “Honestly, Lucius, while the idea of us does not repulse me, knowing that I actually had sex with a Death Eater just… And with you, of all people. I used to think you were the most faithful Death Eater of all.”

He frowned. “At one time, I was,” he confessed. “However, I’d rather you not think of me as a Death Eater anymore as I haven’t been one in years. Nor do I have any plans on returning to that lifestyle.”

“That’s a relief,” she commented, giving him a small smile. She licked her lips and sighed. “Well, let us hope we are able to return my parents’ memories safely so you can speak to my father.”


	4. Chapter 3

It seemed that once they had added sex to their adventure, time had quickened. Or perhaps that was just Hermione’s perspective? Either way, they were docking in Perth soon after. Their trip between Perth and Adelaide had been relatively uneventful as well. In fact, it wasn’t until they had gotten to Sydney that anything exciting had begun happening. 

“Look. We can’t stay in the Wizarding world if we wish to get close to my parents. They’re Muggles!” Hermione argued for the umpteenth time. “If we want to get close to them, we have to live like Muggles, and we have to act and dress like Muggles.”

“I am not wearing one of those godforsaken Muggle suits!” Lucius snapped. 

The Muggle-born growled in frustration, running her hands through her hair and lightly tugging on it. Dropping her hands, she folding her arms. “Weren’t you the one who said you wanted to meet my parents?” she asked, trying a different tactic.

He glared at her. “Meeting your parents does not require me to wear a three-piece suit,” he told her. 

She glowered at him for a moment. Then, a thought occurred to her. “What about a pair of trousers and a polo?” she asked.

He frowned. “What in bloody hell is a ‘polo’?” he shot back.

She gave him a light smile and offered him her hand. “I’ll show you,” she promised.

He allowed her to lead him into a department store where she found the clothing she was looking for and showed it to him. He wrinkled his nose distastefully. “That looks more like what you would wear underneath your robes,” he pointed out, not even touching the fabric.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Two weeks, Lucius. You’ll only have to suffer through it for about two weeks, then you can go back to wearing your normal clothes,” she told him. “If you like, we can go to Target or even Harrods. Actually, Harrods would be perfect, I think,” she stated.

As she lead him through the streets of Sydney, he watched her curiously. “How do you know so much about Australia?” he asked after a while.

“I have an uncle who lives here,” she told him. “My parents used to bring me here to see him. He works at the Australian Zoo. At least, he used to.” Her expression turned sad and he almost asked her about it, but changed his mind. He could always ask her about it later.

As they stepped into the department store, Harrods, Lucius glanced around critically. His eyes narrowed. He sniffed and was pleased to find that, at least, the air smelled better. As they walked through the women’s section, Lucius gazed at the different outfits. 

“Have you ever shopped here, darling?” he asked, as he paused to review a particularly appeasing outfit that he felt would look spectacular on the young witch.

“God, no,” she said, shaking her head. “Just one outfit alone would cost me a month’s salary, and that’s if I were to buy everything on clearance.”

He nodded thoughtfully as he reached out to touch the fabric. Yes, this would certainly look nice on the witch. “I see,” he murmured. He glanced at her and spoke more clearly, “I had forgotten that the Ministry gave merely Knuts in terms of decent wages.”

Hermione frowned. “I get paid more than enough to get by,” she assured him. “I certainly don’t really want for anything.”

Still holding the fabric, he nodded. “I wish to purchase this for you,” he told her.

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Are you mad?” she asked him. “We’re supposed to be shopping for you, not me.”

“All the same,” he stated as he glanced around. Seeing one Muggle with a name badge pinned to her jacket, Lucius released the clothing and turned to her as she was walking by the couple. “Madam? Pardon me,” he said to her as she began to pass by them.

The Muggle looked at him. Blushing just a bit, she crossed the walkway to join him. “Yes, sir. How may I help you?”

He glanced over to Hermione, and held out a hand to her. “This is Miss Hermione Granger, whom I hope one day to call Mrs. Malfoy,” he told the sales lady. Hermione approached them tentatively, her cheeks bright pink as Lucius place his hand gently on her waist. “I was looking at some of the garments you have and was wondering if you could assist Miss Granger in finding an outfit or two she could wear.” 

Reaching into a pocket in his robes, he pulled out a plastic card with the Visa logo on it. “Also, perhaps you can open up an account for me and point me to the men’s section?” he requested as he handed the lady the card.”I want no expense spared.” 

Hermione watched as the woman’s eyes lit up. “Yes, of course… Mr. Malfoy, is it?” At his nod, she smiled.

“Lucius Malfoy,” Hermione told the lady. 

The lady smiles pleasantly at Hermione. “Yes, Miss Granger,” she said amicably. She held her hand out to the witch. “My name is Barbara, but you may call me Barb, if you like.” She touched a small microphone that was attached to her jacket. “May I have some assistance in the women’s department? I have a gentleman here named Lucius Malfoy who could use an escort to the men’s department.”

Lucius’s brow crinkled a little in confusion and Hermione leaned into him to whisper, “Muggles have technology that allows them to speak to one another through these devices called ‘radios’.” He nodded in understanding and she rubbed his arm. 

Barbara waved a hand at the floor for Hermione as another employee joined them. This one was a strapping young lad with short dark hair. As he led Lucius towards the men’s department, Barbara led Hermione further into the women’s. “Your soon-to-be father-in-law is quite the catch, Miss Granger,” she said jovially.

Hermione’s face contorted at the thought of marrying Draco. “I’m not marrying his son,” she said.

The sales lady looked at her in surprise. “Oh! I am so sorry,” she said, looking properly cowed. “He said he hoped you would one day become Mrs. Malfoy, so I naturally thought...”

“Yes, well, he wishes to speak to my father first,” Hermione told her, her face still scrunched up in annoyance, “but he was indicating that I would one day marry him, not his son.”

Barbara nodded. “Again, my apologies,” she said. She glanced at Hermione again, appraising her clothing. “So… what sort of designers interest you? Saint Laurant, Kenzo, Amiri, Dries Van Noten?”

Hermione could already feel a headache starting up. “To be honest, I haven’t a clue,” she said. “My knowledge in fashion is quite limited.”

“You are from Britain, correct?” Barbara asked. At Hermione’s nod, she suggested, “What about Simone Rocha?” She went to a rack of clothing and showed the witch.

Hermione frowned. The Muggle might as well have been speaking Greek to her, but she didn’t want to seem too ignorant. “They are pretty,” she admitted. She glanced to the side and saw a mannequin wearing a white top. “What about that?” she asked, pointing to the mannequin.

The woman smiled broadly. “Saint Laurant, then,’ she said, nodding. “Do you know your size?”

The Muggle-born shrugged. “Last I checked it was eight, but I would assume I’ve gained weight since then?” she wagered.

The sales lady nodded. “Well, no worries, love. We can take your measurements and set you right,” she assured the girl.

Hours later, Hermione met up with Lucius at the Bridge Room. Not only had the ladies from Harrods help Hermione dress to the nines, they had given her a complete makeover with her hair and face. She had a feeling her hair would warp back to its normal look before the end of the evening, but she applauded their effort. 

She clutched her new Stella McCartney handbag and looked around the restaurant. She felt a hand slide up her back and she froze as Lucius’s familiar scent washed over her. She closed her eyes as he leaned close to her and whispered into her ear, “You look like a goddess, darling, and you smell divine.”

She turned around to gaze up at him. Lucius had always been a handsome and imposing figure. However, as her eyes climbed up his figure, she couldn’t help but feel herself melt. “You look handsome yourself,” she replied as little critters did somersaults in her stomach. “I see the Muggles managed to talk you into a three-piece after all,” she added, teasingly.

He raised an eyebrow, but smiled and offered her his hand. “Shall we?” 

Four courses of rich, expensive food later, Hermione dabbed her lips with her napkin and leaned back. “We do have to keep our mission in mind,” she told him. “We came here with a purpose. Let’s not forget that.”

“Naturally,” he agreed as he took a sip of his wine. “I assume we have a lead as to their location?”

She nodded. “Wendell and Monica Wilkins,” she told him. “They own a dentistry here. Thought, perhaps, we could go there for a dental check-up and see them.”

He frowned. “A dental check-up?” he asked.

She covered her mouth. “Oh!” she said, looking at him. “Well, they are dentists.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And a dentist is...”

“In the most basic terms, they’re doctors, or Healers, rather, for your teeth,” she explained. “Muggles don’t really have magical means to care for their teeth, so they go to the dentist to maintain oral hygiene.”

He looked at her curiously. “Why don’t they just brush their teeth?” he asked.

“Oh, they do,” she assured him. “But not everything can be fixed with a simple brushing. A lot of people get cavities or need to wear braces, or a list of other oral problems. So, they go to the dentist.”

He absently ran his tongue over his own teeth. “Why would both of us need a dental check-up? Wouldn’t it be fine if it were just you?”

She though about that for a moment. “I suppose it would,” she conceded. “I just thought it would be better if it were the both of us. Then we could both gain their trusts.”

“I have a better idea,” he suggested. “From what I know of Muggle currency, I am a wealthy billionaire. I could make a large donation to whatever sort of organization that focuses on dentistry and perhaps hold a banquet. We could then invite your parents to said banquet. Once they are there, we can slip the potion into their glasses and thereby start the process of having them regain their memories.”

She frowned. “That sounds sneaky,” she chided.

He shrugged. “Have you forgotten who I am, darling?”

“Remind me to never accept a drink you’ve handed me,” she said, pursing her lips.

He chuckled. “You already have, though,” he reminded her. “You’ve kissed me as well, as I recall. And yet, you are still alive.”

“You’ll have to slip it in when they aren’t looking,” she pointed out.

He nodded. “Of course. That isn’t hard to do,” he said as he stood up and offered her his hand. “In the morning, I’ll have you go to their dentist business and personally give them an invitation to the banquet. This will give you a chance to check up on them and perhaps even garner some curiosity on their part. We will go to the Wizarding bank here in Sydney and have some galleons transferred to the dentistry organization here in Australia and...” he held up a hand to draw one of the server’s attention.

“Yes, sir,” the man asked, approaching the couple.

“My intended and I are very passionate in oral care, and we are planning to throw a banquet for the Australian organization that helps research better methods for dental care. Might I know the name of the organization that is responsible for this?”

“Oh, well, that would be the Australian Dental Association,” the man replied. 

Lucius nodded. “Thank you, good sir,” he said as he slipped a bill into the man’s hand. Hermione’s eyes widened as she watched the money pass to the man’s hand.

As Lucius and she walked away, she looked up at him. What can of worms did she just open?

~*~

Hermione was amazed by how quick and organized Lucius was. By breakfast the next morning, he had donated well over 10 million Australia dollars to the Australian Dental Association. As they sat down to eat, he handed her a green envelop. 

“When you visit your parents today, inform them of who I am and give them this,” he told her. “It is a formal invitation to the banquet I will be hosting two weeks from now.”

“Who exactly should I tell them you are?” she asked as she tore a piece of her bagel and popped it in her mouth.

He grinned. “I would say your husband, but it’s a bit too soon for that,” he joked, making her choke a little.

She coughed and grabbed her pumpkin juice. Lucius watched her for a moment in concern. Once he was certain she was fine, he continued, “Just give them my name and tell them that I am a wealthy business man from Britain. Let them know that I have a vested interest in dental hygiene and have heard that their practice is highly respected. They have received nothing but rave reviews over the last five years and I wish to personally thank them for their efforts in keeping Australia’s youth orally healthy.”

“They have?” she asked. “How do you know that?”

He sniffed. “Haven’t you been keeping track of your parents since the war, my dear?” he asked curiously. He pulled his wand out of his cane and waved it a bit, producing a stack of newspaper clippings and papers of data that show how her parents and their office have been doing.

As the paper was set upon the table, Hermione reached out and picked up an article, skimming through it. “Why would a British billionaire care about the dental hygiene of Australia’s youth?” she asked.

“Well, one day I hope to marry you. I also have a home here in Sydney. If and when you and I marry, if it’s your desire to one day have children, I want to make sure there are dentistry practices here that carry the latest developments in oral hygiene,” he explained.

She looked at him. “You said you wanted to court me. You never said anything about marriage,” she told him, her brow knitting together.

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think courting is, darling?”

She shook her head, not believing the things that were happening. “You gave 10 million dollars to the Australian Dental Association,” she breathed, looking at him. “You realize that is a Muggle organization, right?”

“Wizards have no need for dentists, so, yes, I realize that,” he told her. “It’s only 10 million. Besides, don’t Muggle-borns tend to go to a dentist until they learn that they are magical?”

“Well, yes, but they are Muggle-borns,” she said slowly. “You don’t like Muggles and you believe that Muggle-borns are thieves.”

He frowned at that. “When have I ever indicated that I believe Muggle-borns are thieves?”

“They have to get their magic from somewhere, don’t they? Isn’t that what Pureblood Society teaches? That Muggle-borns will be the downfall of our society and that all they do is steal magic from ‘real’ witches and wizards,” she responded incredulously.

Lucius’s frown deepened. “Why is it that every time we have a discussion where I have done something that could be seen as good for Muggles, you jump to conclusions?” he asked. “Look. Do you want your parents to get their memories back, yes or no?”

“That’s not...”

“Yes or no?” he repeated, cutting her off.

“Well, yes,” she replied. “But...”

“Then let me help you do that,” he told her. “Besides, it’s good to know something about my future in-laws,” he added as he took a bite of his pancakes.

“Talk about assumptions,” she muttered. She glared at him. “What makes you think I would want to marry you?”

He paused and looked at her. Dabbing his lips with his napkin, he asked, “Is there a reason you wouldn’t?” She didn’t reply, but her eyes did fall to his forearm and then her own. He straightened his throat and her eyes shot up to his. He had seen exactly where her eyes had looked and he understood. “Hermione, do either of your parents have a problem with tattoos?”

“I don’t think they do,” she said. “I know my mum had been very fascinated by tattoos in other cultures. Why?”

“Before the banquet, I would like the two of us to go to a tattoo parlor in the Australian Wizarding world,” he told her. He reached out and picked up her hand. His eyes searched hers. “I can’t mend what Bellatrix had done to your arm. Nor can I wipe away the Dark Mark from my arm, but perhaps we can make them less grotesque to look at? Give the scars on our skin a new meaning. How do you feel about that?”

“Wouldn’t that hide who we are, though?” she asked. “I mean, who we were? We can’t erase history, or the parts we played in it.”

“True,” he agreed. “However, we are not who we were. I will never bow to another tyrannical sociopath again, and if, Merlin forbid, the Dark Lord were to ever find some way to return, I would cut off my arm and change my name before returning to his side.” His bold proclamation shocked Hermione to the core. “The scars of our pasts do not define who we are today.”

Hearing him say those words made Hermione’s heart flutter. She glanced down at their joined hands. “It’s been you who has donated to all my causes,” she said softly. It wasn’t really a question, just a reiteration of what she had already known. “I still don’t think we should cover them up. They may not be who we are now, but they are who we were. And they show people just how much we have changed. This scar may have been given to me by Bellatrix in an effort to somehow ‘prove’ that I am unclean, but it gave me the willpower to fight for the necessary changes that needed to be made within the Ministry. And your scar helps you to remember what had happened in the past so that you will never repeat those mistakes again.”

“And yet, it seems to be a dividing factor between us,” he said, releasing her hand and sitting back in his chair. “I’ve seen the way you look at my Mark and your scar. They stress you out, even if you don’t mean them to. I understand the meaning behind them, and even how your scar has empowered you. I don’t want to cover them up. Just… change them a little. Make it so that, when you look at the scar, you’re not as… troubled by it.”

“I’m not,” she assured him. As she stood up, so did he. She gave a small smile. Some things would never change, she thought. Taking his arm, she lifted it and turned it, pushing back the sleeve so the Mark was revealed. Then, she lifted the Mark to her lips and kissed it. Looking up at him, she said, “It may be too soon to say it, but I’m going to anyway. I love you in spite of this mark. Fuck Voldemort and his backward beliefs. I’ve seen the good you’ve done, the good you continue to do. You aren’t the same man who first accepted this thing. Nor will you ever be again. Don’t change it because you think it distresses me. It doesn’t. If anything, when you see me look at your Mark, it’s more because I am amazed and shocked by the things you are doing when I remember the man you were. You’ve come so far, Lucius.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

~*~ 

Hermione froze as she walked into the dentist office and saw who was standing behind the reception desk. The woman she was looking at was middle aged, with short brown, bushy hair and dark brown eyes. She had a dark complexion and bone structure that reminded Hermione strongly of the woman’s Italian roots. When the woman looked up and smiled at her, Hermione felt a dead weight drop into the pit of her stomach. She fought every urge in her body that begged her to sprint across the room and hug the woman.

She took a few calming breaths as she approached the counter. The woman standing behind the counter, smiled at her. “May I help you?” she asked.

“A-are,” Hermione gave a little cough and straightened her throat. “Excuse me,” she said. 

“Would you like some water?” the lady asked.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. “No, thank you,” she replied. “Are you Dr. Monica Wilkins?”

“I am,” the lady said, looking at the girl curiously. “Do I know you?”

The Muggle-born looked up at the woman and her bottom lip trembled. Maybe she should have had Lucius do this instead. Already, she could feel her legs trembling. “I, uh… Not really, no,” she said. God, she hated lying to her own parents. “I was sent here by a Mr. Lucius Malfoy to deliver this to you,” she held out the green envelop to Monica. “It’s an invitation to a banquet he is hosting for the Australian Dental Association. He wanted to invite you and your husband personally because he was impressed with the work you have done for the Australian children.”

Wendell walked in at that moment and Hermione felt her eyes water up. “What’s this?” he asked.

Monica handed him the invitation. “We’ve been invited to an ADA banquet that, I’m sorry, dear, what was his name again?”

Hermione wiped her cheeks. “Sorry. I got something in my eye,” she said quickly as an excuse as she wiped the tears away. 

“It’s the lack of humidity,” Wendell said wisely as he read the invitation.

“Lucius Malfoy,” Hermione said, answering Monica’s question. “He’s a British billionaire who is looking to buy a home here in Sydney. See, he plans on getting married soon and the little bird he wishes to marry loves helping people in need. When she had read about the work the two of you do for your community, she showed it to him and he immediately donated 10 million dollars to the ADA. I think he means to donate more at this banquet, too. More importantly, he wishes to thank you both personally for everything you’ve done.”

“Ten million dollars?” Wendell asked, looking at the girl.

Not trusting herself to speak, Hermione nodded. Monica pointed to a line on the invitation. “It’s next Friday,” she said. “Do you think that will interfere with your business trip?”

He shook his head. “My trip is a month from now, love. This banquet will be a memory before I leave,” he told her. He looked up at Hermione and paused for a moment. “Well, golly gee, Monica!” he breathed. “What did you say your name was, dear?”

“Oh, um, Hermione Granger,” Hermione said immediately.

“Huh. Well, I have to say, Miss Granger, you look just like Monica here did when she was younger,” he said, amazed. “Even down to the unmanageable wild hair.”

“Wendell!” Monica scolded, popping him on the arm.

Hermione gave them a sad smile, but did not answer. “Well, just remember to dress in your best Spring clothes as Mr. Malfoy has indicated that it will be a garden party,” she told them.

The couple glanced at one another with a smile. Then Monica gave Hermione a sly look. “For a man whose name means ‘of bad faith’, he certainly is quite generous.”

Hermione shrugged, but smiled as well. “He’s had some pretty rude wake-up calls in his recent past and I think he’s been trying to make up for them. He’s made some pretty damning mistakes in his past.”

“Haven’t we all?” Wendell commented. “We’re only human. Please inform Mr. Malfoy, that we look forward to attending and meeting him.”

Hermione nodded and thanked them both. As she turned to leave, Wendell stopped her, “Oh, and, Miss Granger, will you be attending this banquet as well?”

She turned back to him and nodded. “Yes, sir, I will.”

Monica’s sly grin widened as she asked, “As Mr. Malfoy’s intended?”

“Hopefully,” the Muggle-born answered. When the Muggles looked at her curiously, she clarified, “Mr. Malfoy hopes to speak to my father first, but, yes, I do think I am the one he is interested in.”

“I’m sure your father will agree to it,” Wendell told her. “I assume Mr. Malfoy is an older gentleman?”

Hermione nodded. “He is,” she admitted.

“But you are of the legal age of consent,” Monica stated, glaring at her husband. “Which means that you have the right to choose whomever your heart desires. We wish you the best, my dear.”

~*~

When Hermione returned to the manor – Yes, Lucius had rented a manor for their stay in Australia – she found Lucius in the drawing room. He watched her as she crossed the room to him. He had just enough time to set his brandy down before she crawled up into his lap and wept against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her while she cried.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to my betas, cowgalnina and Silver Lioness! Without you two, this would have been much worse to write.

Hermione walked into the potions lab and watched as Lucius leaned down slightly to turn the heat down a bit while still stirring the potion in the cauldron. His hair was tied back with a black ribbon and his sleeves were pushed up his arms, exposing firm muscle definition. He had a few buttons of his shirt undone and Hermione could see a thin sheet of sweat there. 

“Would you like some help?” she asked as she entered the lab. Approaching him, she rose up to her toes and kissed his cheek.

He smiled as he leaned towards her. “Actually, I think this potion is about done,” he informed her. “I have to let it simmer, untouched, for twenty-five minutes.”

Hermione nodded and pulled out a small timer. Setting it, she placed the timer on the table beside the cauldron. “What should we do to pass the time?” she asked, feigning curiosity.

He lifted an eyebrow. Setting the stirring rod beside the timer, he turned towards her and picked her up. Hermione burst into laughter as he kissed her neck and walked towards the other table within the room. Setting her on top of it, he kissed her lips. “I’m sure we can think of something,” he told her.

By the time the twenty-five minutes were up, they were both lounging against the table, completely satisfied.

~*~

Over the course of the following days, Hermione learned more about putting together a banquet than she had ever thought she would. Lucius was extremely patient, too, which surprised her. It was a bit annoying, really, as he even “taught” her how to do simple things, like roll silverware and which utensil was used for each course. 

As they sat at the table one evening, and Lucius gently corrected her when she accidentally grabbed the wrong fork, she looked at him curiously. “Did you teach Draco all of this?” she asked, picking up the correct fork.

“I did not,” he admitted. “Narcissa was in charge of his early education.”

She rolled her eyes and gave a small snort as she stabbed a piece of chicken. He lowered his own fork and looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “I know you care little for tradition, Hermione,” he told her. “However, tradition is all my family has ever known.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous to claim I care little for tradition,” she commented, tilting her head as she looked at him.

“It isn’t,” he argued. His eyes glanced down her figure as much as it could and looked back up at her. “You rarely wear dresses, aside from specific occasions, preferring jeans over trousers. You have a job at the Ministry of Magic, in favor of seeking a husband. All that I’ve taught you just these past couple of days are things children are taught during their years before attending Hogwarts.”

“Are you calling me a child?” she asked, feeling a little affronted.

He lifted a brow. “Not at all, darling,” he said. “Just making a point in your lack of interest in tradition.”

“It’s not a ‘lack of interest’,” she assured him. “I’ve never learned any of this because it wasn’t seen as important in my family. My parents were more concerned with teaching me practical things, such as reading, math, and science, than they were interested in proper high society etiquette.”

Lucius nodded. “Draco had received his academic education as well,” he pointed out. 

She gave him a small smile and then frowned. “It was never a competition,” she told him. “I’ve always prided myself on my education. My parents were consistently encouraging me to excel in anything and everything. Not to mention, being Muggle-born, coming to the Wizarding world was just fascinating to me. The night after McGonagall came to my home and took my parents and I to Diagon Alley, I have to admit, I began reading my school books that evening. I was so excited to learn why I was able to do the things I did. And I yearned to learn more.” She took a sip of her wine before she continued, “That being said, learning this,” she waved a hand at the silverware, “is fascinating as well. If we are to have a proper banquet, it’s important that I know these things. It’s not a matter of my caring little for tradition as it is in me simply not knowing. I enjoy having you teach it to me, Lucius, and I feel as though I am learning so much.”

He nodded. “If that’s the case,” he said, dabbing his lips with his napkin, “perhaps tomorrow we will shop for your evening wear. It is customary that one is dressed appropriately for supper.”

She pressed her lips together. “I have noticed that you tend to dress formally in the evening,” she observed. 

“I do,” he replied. “It is only proper that one should dress formally when attending an evening meal. Or, at the very least, semi-formally.”

She frowned as her eyes wandered down to her plate. Glancing back up at him, she took a deep breath. “Given that we aren’t currently entertaining anyone, I don’t see the point in having to dress for the cause.”

He lifted a brow and took a sip of his wine. “It’s about getting into the habit, darling. If you do it all the time, without worry for cause or need, it becomes second nature. Besides, as a proper lady, it is expected that you always look the part,” he suggested casually.

Her eyes narrowed as she shot him a disparaging glare. “Well, perhaps I’m not a ‘proper lady’? I’m a Mudblood, in case you’ve forgotten, and we...”

“I was always under the impression you had more tact,” he said, cutting her off. He pressed his lips together into a thin line as he stared at her. “I do hope you don’t intend to use that word during the banquet.”

“Why would I?” she asked. “The banquet will be for Muggles, correct? They wouldn’t understand the terminology.”

Hermione wondered, briefly, if a person’s face could truly become frozen if they scowled too much. At the same time, she became acutely aware by how a person could adopt the expressions of one’s parents. The glare Lucius gave her reminded her so much of his son, she nearly shocked herself with the revelation that, one day, Draco would look nearly exactly as Lucius did now. Well, that was a bit disconcerting given that, despite their arguments, Hermione was really beginning to enjoy the time she spent with Lucius. She had even fancied herself falling in love with him, though she wasn’t about to inform him of this information. Not yet. Besides, he needed to say it first, by her reckoning.

“Is there a reason you feel the need to point your heritage out to me every chance you get?” he asked after a while.

She shrugged and took a sip of her own wine. “For six years, I was constantly reminded, by your son I might add, that I didn’t belong. Until our sixth year, he felt it his duty to say something about my heritage every time I opened my mouth and said something he didn’t like.”

Lucius frowned. “Draco has always been a rather brazen child. His mother and I had often attempted to teach him better manners, but...”

“He had to learn it from somewhere, Lucius,” she told him. “And, as I have pointed out, you were a Death Eater. Even if you had never said the word in front of him, which I know to be a lie, no doubt your Death Eater friends, or his own friends, said it often enough.”

He said nothing, merely stared at her before returning to his plate of food. The silence in the room was heavy, though Hermione wasn’t exactly certain why. Was he feeling regret for his past? Was she being too hard on him? He was, after all, trying to change.

She sighed. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, causing him to look back at her. She licked her lips. “I don’t know why I keep bringing up the past. I guess I just… I never thought someone like you, with your social standing, would ever even dine with me, much less have sex, speak of marriage, throw a Muggle banquet…” She trailed off as her eyes fell to her empty plate. 

“For all your ambition, you certainly lack much confidence or self-esteem, Hermione,” he commented. She looked up at him and her brow creased. He continued, “I’ve said it before, and I will continue to say it until you actually believe me: you are a strong, beautiful, intelligent, talented young woman. The idea that men aren’t already flocking to you… Well, I suppose that makes me a lucky son of a bitch to catch this gem before anyone else has been able to.” He gave her a soft smile and winked at her as he reached across the table and took her hand. 

“I’m not a gem,” she argued, though she was pleasantly surprised by how her heart soared at his words.

He shook his head. “No, you aren’t,” he admitted. “You are the rarest, most beautiful of diamonds, and I should know. I am quite wealthy and have held many jewels.”

“How many?” she asked, curious.

He released her hand and chuckled. “Come now, darling, it would be quite ungentlemanly of me to kiss and tell, now, wouldn’t it?” he teased. “Narcissa may have been my betrothed, but ours was a rather loveless marriage until Draco was born. Even after his birth, there was a general coldness between us and I knew the only reasons she was truly happy were due to my money, our child, and the fact that we made a handsome couple for the press.”

“More than a handsome couple,” she argued. “She is beautiful, you are handsome, the two of you were like… something out of a fairy tale. You could easily be Adonis and she, Aphrodite.”

He wrinkled his nose at that analogy. “More like, perhaps, Zeus and Hera,” he debated.

She laughed.

He looked at her, smirking a little at her laughter. Once she calmed down, he leaned forward and took her hand again. “You are Aphrodite, darling.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Aphrodite was a bimbo,” she pointed out.

He shook his head. “Aphrodite was the goddess of love and beauty,” he corrected. “She was also the goddess of fertility and sexual passion.”

“So, why do you wish to marry me, of all people?” she asked, turning the conversation back to the original topic.

“Because you have a fire within you that I find lacking in my life,” he told her. “I think it’s time I turn up the heat, and you are the very woman I need in my life to accomplish that.”

~*~

With the time of the banquet fast approaching, Hermione found herself busier than ever. And Lucius made certain she was there for every bit of planning, too. She took in everything, too, and made  
notes over the things she didn’t understand or had questions about. Honestly, though, her notes were few, her misunderstanding little, and her input over things most helpful. After all, Lucius was a wizard who had never really done things the Muggle way, or even fully understood them. By the end of the week, he was the one making notes and asking questions while she finalized the details and added a bit of Muggle flare.

“I do hope you don’t mind, darling,” Lucius commented one night during supper, “but I’ve invited your friends to the banquet.”

Puzzled, and a bit suspicious, she looked at him and put her drink down. “Which friends?” she asked. She wasn’t aware he knew of her Muggle friends and she made a quick mental note to check her belongings to see if she had incidentally placed her pocketbook in her suitcase.

He looked at her curiously. Furrowing his brow in thought, he replied, “Mr. and Mrs. Potter, I believe. I’ve also invited Arthur and Molly Weasley, and of course, my son and his wife.”

Hermione paled. “Lucius, this is a _Muggle_ banquet!” she hissed, leaning forward. “As much as it thrills me to see Harry and Ginny, this could end in disaster if someone does something improper.”

He shrugged. “We’ll all agree to hand over our wands to you for safe keeping,” he suggested. “Not that I think Mr. Potter will step out of line. You must remember, as well, that even though Mrs. Weasley accepted an unfortunate union, she was raised with class and dignity. You are the one who wished for me to be more accepting of others, particularly my enemies.”

“Arthur is not your enemy!” she stressed. She leaned back in her chair and huffed. “How are they getting here? Not by ship, I hope?”

He shook his head. “I believe they will be using that Muggle deathtrap,” he explained. 

She sent him a harsh glare. “You were worried about us using an aeroplane because you felt our combined energies would bring it down. What makes you think they will fare any better?” she asked.

He shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “Last I checked, none of them have any animosity towards one another,” he told her.

“Didn’t you say Draco was going to be coming as well? He and Harry hate one another! You can’t expect those two to be on a plane together and tensions _not_ run high,” she reasoned.

“It’s only a day,” he argued. “Besides, they will go separately. Draco owns his own arrow-plane. Mr. Potter has told me that he, his wife, and his in-laws will be leaving on a commercial flight that will take approximately twenty-six hours to get here from London.”

“It’s not ‘arrow-plane’, it’s aeroplane,” she corrected. “And of course Draco has his own! And Merlin forbid he offers to allow Harry or any Weasley on it!”

He frowned. “First you complain about them boarding an aeroplane together, and now you complain about Draco not offering to allow Mr. Potter or the Weasleys to board his aeroplane with him,” he pointed out. “Which thought do you find more offensive, my dear, because I’m confused?”

She realized how contradictory she sounded, but… “The reason I made a fuss about them coming in an aeroplane is because you had refused to get on one yourself! You claimed that, because we are magical, our negative energies would affect the engines and we could crash. I thought they would be boarding together, so I am upset over the fact that Draco is taking his own flight rather than asking Harry and the Weasleys to join him. It’s bigotry and egotistical...”

“You claimed that if Draco and Mr. Potter were to be on a flight together that tensions would ‘run high’, which would endanger their journey, would it not?” he questioned.

She opened her mouth to argue and snapped it shut. “He could have at least offered,” she said quietly as she reached for her glass of wine.

Lucius shrugged. “Perhaps he did,” he commented. “Or maybe he didn’t.” He seemed to think over the conversation. “We won’t know either way until they arrive. I simply wished to inform you they would.”

“Thank you,” she said. 

He gave her a small smile and took her free hand into his. “I want to make this day special for you. Not just because you will have your parents back, but also in hopes that you will accept my proposal.”

~*~

Hermione smiled broadly as she ran up to her best friend and threw her arms around his neck. “Harry!” she squealed happily as he returned her hug enthusiastically. “I can’t believe you’re actually here! She broke away from Harry only to be engulfed in a hug by Ginny.

“We can’t believe _you’re_ here,” Ginny shot back, amazed. “Have you really been with Malfoy this whole time?”

The Muggle-born nodded as she turned to Molly and Arthur, exchanging hugs with them as well. “He’s been respectful, I hope?” Molly questioned gently as she cupped Hermione’s face.

The girl giggled. “Well, as respectful as a Malfoy could be, I suppose. He does have his good days and bad ones.”

“Is it true that this banquet is supposed to be a Muggle one?” Arthur asked, amazed. At Hermione’s nod, the wizard’s eyes widened and he stared at her. “How did you manage that one?”

Hermione blushed. “Well...”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Harry commented, frowning.

Hermione popped him lightly on the arm. “It’s not that bad!” she insisted. “Lucius is a gentleman, you know.”

The bespectacled boy sighed and touched her arm. “Are you happy?” he asked. When she replied positively, he gave her a single nod. “Then that is all that matters to me. I’ve seen his records and, at least from what I know, he’s changed a lot. Though, it shocked the hell out of me when I read the invite.”

“Are your parents… aware yet?” Ginny asked as Hermione led them further into the house. 

The brunette shook her head. “They still think they are Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Lucius finished the potion last night, and we’re hoping he’ll be able to slip it into their drinks some time tomorrow evening. How was your flight?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “We’re lucky Harry and Draco didn’t cause the plane to go down. I swear you’d think we were still in Hogwarts with how much those two bickered!”

Hermione frowned at that. “Draco? I thought he was taking his own plane?”

Molly clapped her hands together. “Yes, and he was such a gracious young man, offering for us to us to go with him, wasn’t he, Arthur?” she chimed in, smiling up at her husband.

“That he was, my dear,” he agreed. “Despite our histories, he managed to put all of that aside to allow us to join him. I really think Mrs. Malfoy had much to do with that.”

“Mrs. Malfoy?” Hermione asked, then she remembered, “Oh! Astoria! I had completely forgotten!”

“Don’t know why you would, Granger,” Draco said as the small group entered the drawing room. He was leaning leisurely against the arm of a cushioned chair his wife was sitting in.

The young witch stood as the group entered, and turned to them. She curtsied to Hermione. “Father just informed us of his intentions, Miss Granger,” she said, her voice soft and kind. “Will you be accepting his proposal?”

Draco smirked as he watched the blood in Hermione’s face drain. “Yeah, Granger, are you going to accept?”

“I… I don’t...”

“What proposal?” Harry asked, looking between Draco and Hermione.

The delight in Draco’s face could not be mistaken as he looked at the Muggle-born. “You mean you haven’t told them yet?”

“I haven’t had the chance,” she said, glaring at Draco.

“Come now, Draco,” his father said as he stood up. “You’ve only just gotten here. Allow everyone to settle in and give Miss Granger a chance to speak to her friends.”

Harry drew his friend close to him. “What proposal are they talking about?” he asked her.

Hermione sighed. “Well, I’d hoped to tell you more gently, but,” she shook her head. “Lucius wishes to ask my father’s permission tomorrow night, once their memories are restored.”

Molly clutched her chest as Ginny’s eyes widened. “Oh, sweet Merlin!” Ginny exclaimed, her face lighting up. “What are you going to say if your dad agrees?”

Hermione glanced at Lucius, who was watching her closely. She couldn’t determine what he was thinking or feeling, though he had told her so many times now that he wanted to marry her. “If my father agrees to it,” she said, still looking at Lucius, “I don’t see a reason to not say yes.” She looked at Harry. “He’s done so much for the Wizarding world since the war, and he’s good to me.” She looked down at her clothes. “He’s even bought me a wardrobe and has taken me to Harrod’s several times now.”

“We actually have an appointment there today,” Lucius commented. “For all of us, so we can be fitted with proper Muggle attire for the banquet tomorrow night.”

Harry stared at his friend, flabbergasted. “That doesn’t sound like you, Hermione. Clothes?”

“And next week, we’re doing a charity auction for the new orphanage he’s had built in London,” Hermione told them, ignoring Harry’s comment. “We’re also planning on opening up a primary school for younger children who are magical. It’ll be available to children of all magical types, Muggle-borns and Purebloods alike, from five years of age, to ten, until they are ready for Hogwarts. Along with reading and mathematics, they will learn about the culture of our world, which will be beneficial to Muggle-borns and Half-bloods, especially.”

Harry gave a sidelong glance to his wife, “Now, that sounds more like Hermione.”

The ginger witch giggled and looked at Hermione, “That sounds like so much work, though. How are you going to do that and still maintain your job at the Ministry?”

Hermione glanced back at Lucius. “I think, once we marry, if we marry, I will hand in my notice to the Ministry,” she said slowly. As her confidence mounted, she looked back at Ginny. “If we’re able to get the ball rolling on this school, I will want to devote my time to it. Perhaps we’ll even hold banquets to raise money for this school.”

“I can help, too,” Astoria assured Hermione. “If you like, I can even teach a class or two about etiquette, maybe even some history? Merlin knows, they will need to be prepared for Professor Binns’ class.”

The Muggle-born smiled and agreed with Astoria before glancing at Harry. “Oh, Harry, did you get the paper I had sent you?” she asked, sitting down on the couch and waving a hand to indicate that he and Ginny should join her.

Harry joined her with a moan as his knees popped. “Sorry,” he said. “Yeah, I did get the article. And I feel I owe you a congratulations, Mr. Malfoy. Ten million Australian dollars? How much is that in comparison?”

“Roughly 5.4 million pounds,” Hermione replied. “Or 216 thousand Galleons.”

Molly gasped. “Well, I’m sure the Muggle community here appreciates your donations, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Too right,” Arthur readily agreed. “Though, I’m curious as to why you would give them so much money, Lucius?”

Lucius frowned, thoughtfully. “Should I have given them more?”

Hermione and Harry both laughed. “Ten million is more money than most people here in Australia will see in their lifetimes,” Hermione explained. “You’ve given more than enough. Besides, they don’t know you’re a wizard. Give them too much more, and they’ll probably think you’re arrogant.”

Harry snorted. “He _is_ arrogant,” he pointed out, and shrugged. “Ten million is more than enough. I mean, once your parents regain their memories, are you planning to remain in Australia?”

Hermione thought it over for a moment, chewing the side of her cheek. “I doubt it,” she finally admitted. “Hopefully, my parents will decide to return to England, if they don’t, then… Well, I don’t know.” To be honest, she hadn’t really weighed the idea of her parents not returning to England in her mind yet. Finally, she sighed. “My life is in England. If my parents return with me, then that’s great, but if not, well… there is that possibility, too. I can always visit them.”

“And you would,” Lucius assured her. “Should we ever decide to have children, I’m sure your parents will want to see them.”

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Hermione, please tell me you aren’t pregnant?”

“What? No!” she immediately stated. “I am not pregnant.”

He gave a sigh of relief. “Good,” he said, looking at her. At her puzzled look, he elaborated, “Ron was asking about you the other day. He wanted to know how you were. I told him you were fine, then he showed me the Prophet. You and Mr. Malfoy were spotted boarding a couples’ cruise. Even though I assured him that you weren’t dating, he still expressed concern that Mr. Malfoy may be taking advantage of you.”

Hermione growled. “Well, you can tell Ronald that, a, it’s none of his bloody business what I do, and b, if Lucius is ‘taking advantage of me’, it’s because I want him to. Ron lost any rights to know anything about my private life the day he walked out of my life.”

“I agree,” Harry said.

“I do, too!” Molly piped up. “I love him with all my heart, but I will never understand what goes on in that boy’s mind.” She reached forward and patted Hermione on the arm. “Good for you in finding someone who knows your worth, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled at the motherly woman as Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Don’t mistake me, Molly. I am no saint,” he assured her. “I was in that drawing room the night Hermione was tortured, and I did nothing to put a stop to it. In fact, when I realized we had Harry Potter, I encouraged Draco to call upon the Dark Lord.”

“You were wandless and catering to a madman,” Harry argued. “At the time, I didn’t fully understand everything that was going on, but looking back, if you would’ve tried to put a stop to it, Bellatrix would have killed you, or severely harmed you. And, if she didn’t, then Voldemort would have, for sure.”

“And now, we’re making all these donations to show our support for this new world we are in,” Draco commented sarcastically. “Honestly, Potter, do you really think my father gives a gnome’s arse about the Muggle dentistry in Australia? He gave that money to impress Granger’s parents. His hair potions alone cost more than what he gave!”

“Draco,” Lucius chided, glaring at his son.

“It’s still a lot of money,” Hermione said, looking at Draco. “Far more than what most people will ever see.”

“And it will do a lot for the Australian Dentistry Association,” Harry added. He glared at Draco and continued, “Regardless of the reasons behind the donations, the Muggles are no doubt gratified in receiving the help. Did you read the article, Malfoy?”

Draco shrugged. “Look, if it’s helping the Malfoy image, that’s great, but it really makes no difference to me. So, he helped a bunch of Muggles to impress a bird’s parents? Whatever.”

“ _Draco_ ,” Lucius spat again, scowling at the younger Malfoy. “One thing I really wish your mother and I could have impressed upon you was the gift of silence.” He began walking towards the wetbar. “May I tempt you in a glass of scotch, Arthur?”

“Why?” Arthur asked, looking at Lucius suspiciously. “So you can poison me, or kill me, or make sure I remain silent… Or bribe me, is that it? You are still hiding dark junk in the attic, are you not?”

Lucius sighed as Molly popped her husband on the shoulder, chastising him for accusing Lucius of possible scandal. The blond wizard shook his head almost fondly: “No, I am not – I will take that as a no, then?”

“If you’re offering, I’m drinkin’!” Arthur replied eagerly as he pushed himself away from his wife’s chair to join Lucius. “Not that this makes us friends or anything!”

Lucius smirked in amusement. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He glanced at Harry and held up an empty glass. “Potter?” he offered.

Harry looked uncertainly between Ginny and Hermione. The Muggle-born gave him a small smile as Ginny gently encouraged him to join. Almost in defeat, Harry shrugged. “Sure.”

Hermione could feel the tears in her eyes as her best friend stood up to join the men at the bar. Her friends were accepting her relationship without question and she couldn’t be happier.

Draco stared at his father, flabbergasted. “I wouldn’t mind one as well, Father,” he said, assuming his father had simply forgotten to mention him.

Lucius shrugged. “You are welcomed to it, Son,” he replied, though he made no move to take out a glass for Draco.

Glowering, Draco moved towards the men as his wife giggled. Astoria looked at Hermione, “Oh, I can’t wait until you become part of the family, Miss Granger. It’ll be nice to have another woman in the Manor.”

“You can call me Hermione,” the former Gryffindor offered. She bit her lower lip. “I’m not certain about the Manor, however. At least… not yet.”

The younger witch nodded. “I know. Father is still renovating the Manor. Draco reckons it’ll be some time next Spring before it’s completely finished.”

“I’ve heard he was going to add a botanical garden to it,” Ginny commented idly.

Astoria nodded enthusiastically. “And he’s upgrading the library, too,” she told them. “Draco was working on the inventory before we received the invitation to here. And...” she leaned forward conspiratorially and lowered her voice to a whisper, “don’t let Draco’s mannerisms fool you. It wasn’t his idea to have everyone take the private jet. Father had insisted upon it when he sent the invitation. He told Draco, ‘Take the Muggle jet and make sure you invite the Weasleys and Potters to join you. Remember, too, Draco, to be on your best behaviour. You are a Malfoy and I expect you to act like one.’ I nearly died from laughter when I read it. Draco hates traveling the Muggle way, even though I find it a bit more convenient and less… Well, I don’t get nearly as sick on an aeroplane or in a car as I do Apparating or taking the Floo.”

Hermione nodded. “Lucius had insisted on the cruise when we came here. I think he wanted to do it so he could woo me more than anything,” she groused softly, looking at the men who stood by the bar and chatted quietly to themselves. 

“Well, it certainly gave him plenty of time to work his charm, didn’t it?” Ginny said, leaning back against the couch. “Tell me, Hermione, does he have a gut or abs?”

Hermione touched her lips. “Oh, well,” she blushed. “He does work out… And it certainly shows.”

Molly sighed dreamily. “I miss those days when Arthur used to work out,” she murmured. “Oh, Merlin, he had been so cut back then! You could wash clothes on his abs...”

The girls giggled in surprise as Ginny blushed a deep red. “Things I did not need to know,” she said, using an imaginary quill to scribble on an imaginary pad. “Number one: anything about my parents’ sex life.”

“Oh, Ginny!” Molly chided as Hermione and Astoria continued to giggle.

“Darling? What’s so amusing?” Lucius asked, drawing Hermione’s attention.

This just made her and Astoria laugh harder as Ginny hid her face in her robes. Molly rolled her eyes. “It’s just silly girl talk, Lucius,” the older witch replied with a wave of her hand, since none of the younger girls could speak. “Nothing to worry your wee head about.”

“If he’s anything like his son, I doubt there is anything ‘wee’ about him,” Astoria commented as she found her voice again.

Hermione stared at the girl in shock, her mouth dropping open. “ _Astoria_!”

The girl just shrugged. “Am I wrong?”

“I’m not listening, I’m not listening,” could be heard from Ginny’s robes as she wrapped her arms around her head.

Lucius looked at the witches curiously. “Yes, well, if you all are finished, I do believe our appointment at Harrod’s is soon. Shall we leave now?” he asked.

Hermione quickly stood up and joined the men. “Yes, we probably should.”

Harry approached his wife and touched her arm. “Harrod’s will be expensive,” he said to Hermione.

“I know,” she agreed as Harry helped his wife up. “Given that Lucius invited you, though, I’m sure he can cover whatever costs you can’t.”

“Not even married to him yet and already taking advantage, Granger?” Draco commented.

“No more than he is of me,” she told him. “Besides, if someone has enough Galleons to scoff at a 215 thousand Galleon donation, a few Muggle outfits are hardly even worth blinking your eye at them.” She approached Draco and patted him lightly on the arm. “Don’t worry. Your father is far more valuable to me than some clothes. I’d much prefer to shop at the local outlet store, but I do believe such a place would give the man a heart attack.”

“Or an ulcer,” Harry agreed, causing Hermione to nod solemnly.


End file.
